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In the Bosom of the 
Comanches 



A Thrilling Tale of Savage Indian Life, Massacre 

and Captivity Truthfully Told by 

a Surviving Captive 



Texas Borderland Perils and Scenes Depicted 



The Closing Days of the Trying Indian Struggles 
upon the Frontiers of Texas 



By 
TTA. BABB 

Amarilldi Texas 






Copyright 1912 by T. A. Babb 

(All rights reserved) 



PRESS OF 

JOHN F. WORLEY PRINTING CO. 

DALLAS 




DOT BABB 



Index to Illustrations 

Dot Babb Frontispiece 

James W. Babb 17 

Dot Babb and his horse, Old Coley 18 

John S. Babb 21 

Omercawbey 23 

Black Hawk and Squaw 25 

Black Hawk 29 

Mrs. J. D.Bell 31 

Congressman John W. Stephens 33 

Indian Warriors 35 

Chief Horse Back 39 

Indian in Full Regalia 41 

Chief Esserhabey 45 

John Pasawaky 49 

Chief Esserhabev's Grandson, Squaws and Papoose 53 

Miss Margie Babb 57 

H. C. Babb 61 

James W. Babb 63 

Rufus Booth 67 

Geo. Stephens 69 

An Ex- Warrior and His Family . 73 

Comanche Medicine Man and Teepee 75 

Jimmie Roberts 79 

Quanah Parker and three of his wives 83 

Mrs. T. A. (Dot) Babb 89 

Mrs. Graham 91 

Grandma Ibbie Gordon 93 

Maxine Babb 95 

Quanah Parker's Stage Coach 97 

Quanah Parker 99 

Amarillo Residence of Mr. and Mrs. Dot Babb 101 

Quanah Parker's Heme 103 

Quanah Parker in Costume 105 

Waneda Parker 109 

Scene on Dot Babb's Ranch Ill 

Parkerheimer, Squaw and Son 113 

Daughter of Chief Tabernanika 117 

Tom Watsacoder and other Indians in Regalia 119 

Comanche Dwelling 121 

Indians Butchering a Cow 125 

Apache Girls Going for Water 127 

Quanah Parker and his old home 131 

Comanche Babe and Cradle 133 

Tah-hah 135 

An Indian Belle of recent times 137 

Present Day Indian Girls Visiting the City 139 

Indians drawing rations near Fort Sill 141 

Fourth of July Celebration, Snyder, Okla 143 

Present Day Comanche Mother and Son 145 



INTRODUCTION 



In the unchallenged verity of the chronicle of Theodore 
Adolphus Babb, better known as Dot Babb, recorded in 
the pages that follow is vouchsafed a sustained and ab- 
sorbing interest to the reader and the student : a dissolvent 
of the mystical haziness that has characterized so much 
of the Indian lore, current hitherto; and a contribu- 
tion to history, an inestimable legacy and gift to posterity 
as rare and timely as truth is mighty and eternal. Mr. 
Babb, a descendant of resolute venturesome pioneer stock, 
entered upon an eventful boyhood in the untamed wilds 
of the western border of Texas in a locality and period 
when the mounted Indian marauder with his panoply of 
war and death was often seen silhouetted against the 
distant horizon, at a time when the spectre of tragedy 
and desolation, of atrocious massacre, mutilation, cap- 
tivity, and torture, cast its terrifying shadow athwart the 
fireside of every pioneer home; when, unheralded, cunning 
monsters of vindictive savage hate, here and there among 
the settlers, in unguarded repose or fancied security, sprang 
from stealthy ambush, from the wood-lands' dark border, 
the sheltering hillside and gulch, or the shadowy lustre of an 
unwelcome fateful full moon, and amid and unheeding the 
shrieks of horror, and frenzied slaughter, mingled with the 
cries of anguish and prayers of women and children 
kneeling before their doom, they struck with the fangs of 
the most vicious, merciless, and unreasoning beast, and 
in their unrestrained and unresisted madness and ferocity, 
they left in their crimson wake a sickening chapter of 
ghastly human wreckage of whole families exterminated, 
m either a fiendish butchery or revolting capti\nty with- 



out a counterpart in all the annals of every race and age 
since the hour of the dawn of Christendom, if not since 
the world began. 

At a time when there were no white flags and no 
surrender, and only such alternatives as death, flight, or 
captivity; when lion-hearted men defiant of frightful 
consequences went afield, tended the herds and flocks, 
and pursued the chase and all the vocations of daily life 
heavily armed, perhaps never to return, or returning to 
find a home in ruin and the family either annihilated or 
some members murdered, some made captive, and still 
others that miraculously escaped by flight, concealment, 
the coincidence of absence, or being stricken dowm and 
unwittingly left for dead; when upon these scenes of 
appalling desolation men and women assembled, the 
survivors buried their dead and with the gory fragments 
builded again, animated by the one unconquerable pur- 
pose to defend, hold, or die on their border heritage. At 
a time when keenest vigil day and night was never re- 
laxed by man or beast, when the horizon was anxiously 
scanned for the ascending camp fire smoke, swirling 
clouds of dust or other such unfailing portents of the red 
messengers of devastation and death; when every moon- 
beam and shadow in thicket or grove, when every sound 
or noise breaking the slumbrous solitudes (whether a gust 
of wind or the flapping of wings or plaintive notes of 
nocturnal fowls) was seen, heard, and interpreted with 
strained senses of preternatural power; at a time when 
swift hoofbeats rang out upon the stillness of the night 
the warning of perhaps the sole survivor of the latest 
massacre, and, with relays of horses fleeting and untiring 
as if conscious of their mission, the gruesome tidings were 
borne to the settler far and near. Being thus warned 
Spartan men and women grimly and silently prepared 
for the onslaught, padlocking corrals, replenishing the 
supply of water from the spring or well, barricading doors 
and with shotted rifles, bullet molds, and powder, stoically 
awaited the attack. During the nerve-racking watches 



of the dismal night, as babes and children lapsed into a 
slumber perhaps eternal, no sentinel nodded or slept at 
his expectant post. When at length the attack came, the 
defenders, conscious that no quarter could be asked or 
given, were transformed into an incarnation of billegerent 
fury, a super-human maelstrom of action and combative 
power, and with souls and all reserve forces and energies 
ablaze, and an unconquerable purpose to shield and 
preserve their loved ones, they grappled with the demon- 
iacal savage. Failing, all perished together upon the 
hallowed altar and sanctuary of a family and home pul- 
sating and resounding a few hours before with emotions 
and manifestations of love, joy, and hope. 

From this crucible of dramatic episodes, struggle, and 
peril. Dot Babb was evolved, and amid such stirring 
scenes he passed his early youth and advancing boyhood 
up to the hour of the tragical climax of the unutterably 
horrifying and heartrending spectacle of his beloved 
mother impaled by the Indians as she pleaded for her 
children and his still deeper sorrow in being torn from 
her dying embrace for the inevitable captivity which 
immediately followed and her farewell words of solace in 
his inconsolable distress, and the tender maternal bene- 
diction gently spoken as he looked back into tear bedewed 
eyes for the last glimpse and vision on earth of a sainted 
face on which he plainly saw the unmistakable pallor of 
fast approaching death. In his enforced captivity by the 
Comanches, one of the fiercest Indian tribes then extant, 
Dot Babb approached his maturing years as a full-fledged 
warrior, being made to engage in raids and battles in 
common with the Indian braves. His experiences, priv- 
ations, and exploits he recounts with the simplicity and 
vividness of truth, and in a like manner details his re- 
clamation by the United States Army and his eventual 
restoration to the fragmentary units of his shattered 
family, his recivilization and subsequent career notable 
for the highest probity of character and usefulness as a 
most worthy and valued citizen down to this good hour, 



which finds him happy and prosperous in the sunset of a 
thrilHng Hfe, whether peacefully pursuing the herds on 
the broad acres of his Panhandle ranch or extending the 
proverbial pioneer hospitality of a spacious and beautiful 
home in Amarillo, Texas, to his old-time friends, who are 
legion. Upon his return from an unwilling militant service 
in the ranks of the red warriors to the society of his fellows, 
Mr. Babb was quick to re-adopt and experience a com- 
plete revival of the inherent sentiments and amenities of 
civilized life. After becoming settled in his chosen avoca- 
tion of cattle raising he married the splendid and estimable 
woman who to-day is his greatest comfort in presiding 
over his elegant and hospitable home and in sharing with 
him the honor and blessing of the sterling family they 
have reared. 

At an impressionable age Dot Babb, the boy captive 
and warrior, had much intimate contact with the inner 
Indian life, motives, habits and tribal laws, superstitions, 
joys, and sorrows, of which the Dot Babb of to-day dis- 
closes glimpses as rare as they are interesting and in- 
structive. Mr. Babb found much worthy of admiration 
and emulation if not adoption in the Indian character, in 
their traditional laws, heroic and domestic life; and being 
made familiar with the Indian view point he has found no 
little to condone and defend that in the public imagination 
has had universal and popular condemnation. In the 
period of his captivity there were cemented between him 
and many of the chiefs and the rank and file ties of 
strongest attachment that have not waned in all the lapse 
of time. Not a few of the ex -warriors now dwelling in 
comfort and contentment upon their allotments learned 
long ago after a fashion to write a mixed Indian and 
English dialect and have persevered in an unbroken cor- 
respondence throughout all the intervening years with 
Mr. Babb, who both speaks and writes the Indian lan- 
guage with the fluency and ease of a Comanche. 

It has also been a fixed custom of Mr. Babb to make 
visits at regular intervals to many of his old surviving 



captors, and is received and entertained by them with an 
almost unexampled joy and hospitality and perhaps more 
so than if he were one of their tribal kin and brethren. 
In fact the Comanches have all along regarded him as the 
son of their rightful adoption and when the big Fort Sill 
reservation was being made ready for allotment and 
settlement Mr. Babb was urged by Chief Quanah Parker 
and subordinates to qualify for allotments for himself 
and each member of his family in common with the 
Comanche and Kiowa Indians. In all their dealings with 
the United States government and in all important tribal 
questions and affairs, whether business, domestic, or 
social, the counsel and advice of Mr. Babb has been sought 
and freely given, as he has ever been their steadfast friend 
and co-worker. In their relations there have been the 
same mutual confidence and reciprocal esteem and sym- 
pathy that obtain in the better forms of civilized society. 

Mr. Babb is therefore doubly unique in his dual 
adaptability to Indian life and tradition and to the best 
business and social life as found in the higher circles of 
substantial, refined, and enlightened men and women. 
It can hardly be said that any man living to-day is 
equipped with the same experience, observation, and 
knowledge and can speak so authoritatively of the Indian 
era of Texas, the old Indian Territory, and the Southwest 
as Mr. Babb. Therefore the narrative of Mr. Babb, 
replete with deepest human interest and much pathos, 
and descriptive of expeditions of war and savage fury, as 
well as of the latter life of the subdued Indian, with his 
crimson tomahawk discarded forever, is the truest link 
yet formed between the Indian and civilization. As the 
Indian, America's first great settler, with such biographers 
and interpreters of his life, exploits, and character as Mr. 
Babb, is now essaying his role in the closing scene of the 
last contemporaneous drama, Mr. Babb's realistic por- 
trayal, is nothing short of a noteworthy contribution to 
the best Indian archives and an ampler appreciation of 
one of the stirring epochs of a nation; and as such it is 



dedicated to the entertainment and edification of the 
generations of to-day and those to follow. 

Albert Sidney Stinnett, 

Editor and Biographer. 




JAMES W._BABB, Dot Babbs Grandfather 



— 2 




Dot Babb and his horse Old Coley. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



My name is Theodore Adolphus Babb, better known 
as Dot Babb. I was born May 17th, 1852, near Reeds- 
burg in Saurk County, Wisconsin, to which place my 
father emigrated from Ohio in an early day. In 1854 my 
father with his family consisting of my mother and 
brother, Hernandez Cortez Babb and myself, entered 
upon the long journey to Texas. We traveled the entire 
distance in a two-horse wagon, and were twelve months 
on the road. Our first stop in Texas was in Grayson 
county near Sherman. About one year later our family 
moved in ox wagons to what was known as Dry creek in 
Wise county, about twelve miles west of Decatur, Texas. 
My earliest definite recollections were in our new home 
on Dry creek. There were but few white people in that 
section at that time, but the Indians were ntmierous. 
These Indians were then friendly, and remained so till 
fugitive outlaws and renegades from other states com- 
menced killing and stealing their ponies, and also killing 
the Indians who undertook to recover their ponies. The 
Indians at length decided to strike back, and putting all 
the white people in the same class commenced their 
depredations upon the white settlers generally about the 
time of the breaking out of the civil war. This caused 
the state of Texas to place its rangers on the western 
border from the Indian Territory to Mexico, and ample 
protection was afforded up to the close of the war between 
the states, at which time the southern soldier was dis- 
armed and the state government turned over to an alien 
militia concentrated at the state capital and other centers 



20 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

of population. The border settlers had but little if any 
protection from that time and the Indians became cruelly 
savage, killing and scalping whole families, taking children 
into captivity, stealing horses, and engaging in all manner 
of barbaric practices and deeds. 

In the spring of 1865 my father, Jno. S. Babb, and 
my older brother, H. C. Babb, started out with a drove 
of cattle for the markets of Arkansas, leaving mother, 
me, and two sisters at home. My oldest sister was nine 
years old, my baby sister eleven months, and I about 
thirteen years old. There was also making her home 
with us a Mrs. Luster, about twenty-two years old, whose 
husband was killed in the Civil War. There were two 
other families living on our place, and all were within 
three or four hundred yards of each other. One of the 
families, Harbolt by name, had several boys, some of whom 
became notorious outlaws in later years, and many old 
timers will recall the name of Jim Harbolt as a terrible 
bandit of the darkest days of the Indian Territory. 

The other family was that of the widow Estes and 
her several children. 

About the middle of September, 1865, between three 
and four o'clock in the afternoon, my eldest sister and I 
were at play when we discovered thirty-five or forty 
Comanche Indians in all the regalia and war paint of the 
savage warrior. Stupified with fright we looked again 
and realized that they were advancing rapidly upon us, 
and with quickened heart-beats we wondered what our 
fate would be at the hands of these emissaries of murderous 
implacable hate. We soon saw they would raid our home, 
and with their weird and unearthly war whoops ringing 
in our ears we ran to the house for the protection of 
mother and Mrs. Luster, who had also seen and heard the 
demons approaching. Mother had us enter the house as 
quickly as possible and closed the unbarricaded doors. 
It would be indeed impossible to describe the emotions of 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



21 



horror that possessed all of us in this moment of fatal 
doom and peril. There was no time for either lamenta- 
tion or prayer with our helplessness accentuated by the 
lack of every means of defense; and justifiable premoni- 
tions of death were proclaimed in our tremulous voices and 
fear-distorted faces. An eternity of horror crowded into 
a moment of insufferable suspense for unprotected and 
undefended w^omen and children, confronted by merciless 
and remorseless savages whose known acts and lives were 
records of treachery and blood. 

Mrs. Luster undertook to conceal herself in the loft of 
the log cabin and I made for two or three old guns in their 
racks on the wall. Simultaneously several of the Indians 




JOHN S. BABB 

Father of Dot Babb. Born 1810, Died i) 



22 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

broke open the door and as I would seize a gun they 
would take it from me and belabor me over the head with 
their quirts. My mother was trying to soften or make 
friends by shaking hands with them, and against these 
overtures they were as surlily obdurate and unmoved as 
ever these ruthless slayers had been painted. The first 
thing in their diabolical perfonnances was to plunder our 
home and take off everyting in the way of clothing and 
bedding. They then had Mrs. Luster come down from 
her hiding in the loft and she was bound by some 
Indians and taken outside to the other Indians and their 
horses and there declared a captive. The remainder of 
the Indians in the house seized my oldest sister and 
started off with her. My mother, prompted by an un- 
controllable maternal instinct and afifection, interfered 
and clung to my sister in an effort to prevent her being 
taken, and as she did so one of the Indians stabbed my 
mother four times with a big butcher knife. They then 
took my sister from the house and made captive of her 
also, along with Mrs. Luster. Seeing my mother brutally 
and fatally stabbed I assisted her to the bed just as two 
of the Indians came back, and not finding my mother 
dead as they expected, one of them with drawn bow shot 
her in the left side with an arrow that ranged up towards 
her lungs. I pulled the arrow out and sat upon the bed 
by her, doing all I could to console and comfort her as 
her strength and life waned. The same Indian drew his 
bow and pointed a deadly arrow at me and commanded 
me to go with him. Mother, seeing that I too would be 
killed if I resisted or refused, said, "Go with him and be 
a good boy." One of them then grabbed me by the arm 
and jerked me off the bed, and as he dragged me towards 
the door the other Indian pounded me with his quirt. 
In this miserable plight I was forcibly separated from my 
mother, dying in a mass of blood, with my baby sister 
enclasped within her arms. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



23 




OVIERCAWBEY (Walking Face) Nephew of Chief Horse Back' 

A very desperate Indian who shot my mother with arrows at the time she was 
killed and I captured. I never saw him afterwards, but understood later that 
he had been shot to death. — Dot Babb 



24 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

Here in a time of trustful security, as the light laughter 
of playing children mingled with the songs of birds, and 
love and joy unconfined rioted in the fondest and most 
sacred family ties, in a few terrible moments was written 
in blood a chapter of human bitterness and sorrow at 
which all civilization and mankind would stand aghast. 
A home rent asunder, a mother sacrificed in anguishing 
torture and death upon the altar of dutiful devotion and 
purposeful life, a young woman and a youthful son and 
daughter torn from the family roof -tree to be carried into 
the unknown wilds and the forbidding and darkest realms 
of the fiercest and most unrelenting savage barbarians 
that ever trod the earth, an unrestrained, inhuman, 
savage debauchery crying aloud for the intervention and 
mercies of God and man. 

When they got outside with me I saw my sister and 
Mrs. Luster mounted on horses, each with an Indian in 
front of her on the same horse, thus riding in double 
fashion. I was placed on a horse in a similar manner, 
with my hands tightly held by my Indian riding mate. 
The plunder taken from my home had been securely 
fastened on the pack animals, and with the three captives, 
consisting of my sister, Mrs. Luster, and myself, the cav- 
alcade, without ceremony but with inuch solemnity, fear, 
and sorrow upon the part of the captives, hastily moved 
off the premises. When we had gone about half a mile 
we came upon several of my father's horses grazing upon 
the common. The Indians selected some of the younger 
of these horses, which they drove along with the other 
horses they had seized or stolen and then took a route up 
Dry creek right through where the town of Chico is now lo- 
cated, thence northwest, pushing onward after nightfall and 
only stopping two or three times the entire night for short 
intervals of rest. B}^ nine o'clock the next morning we 
were out of the cross timbers and into an open plains 
country. Fearing pursuit it was a custom of the Indians 



In the Bosom of the Comanckes 



25 




BLACK HAWK AND SQUAW, 
evere Fighter in the Indian Days 



26 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

returning from a raid with captives, stolen horses, and 
other booty to undergo fatigue, hunger, and all manner of 
privation and to exert themselves and horses to the point 
of exhaustion to get beyond the line the white settlers 
would venture to follow. Therefore, for many hours the 
Indians gave us but little rest and neither food nor sleep, 
but pressed onward persistently and swiftly. 

We at length reached the Little Wichita river, which 
was swollen by recent floods to brimming bank full; but 
the Indians found a big acciimulation of drift, on which 
we crossed dismounted, the horses being made to swim 
the river. The first thing we had to eat during the many 
hours since setting out on this unwilling, mournful journey 
was after we had crossed the Little Wichita river and 
reached Holiday creek, about eighteen miles southwest 
from the site of the present city of Wichita Falls. This 
feast was on the remains of a big steer that the lobo 
wolves had freshly slain and of which they had eaten both 
hams as was their custom. From here we proceeded to 
the Big Wichita river which we crossed just below the 
mouth of Beaver creek, and this course was kept till we 
reached Red river that afternoon about sunset at a point 
a little below the mouth of Pease river. Being now com- 
paratively safe from pursuit, the Indians halted with us 
for three days and four nights, and during the time they 
took rest and also nursed a wounded Indian who had been 
shot with a bullet through the right knee in a skirmish 
that they had with settlers before they reached and 
devastated our home. In this particular raid they en- 
countered stubborn resistance and had four or five severe 
fights up to the time of attacking our lamented home and 
family. In the first of these fights they killed two white 
men and two negroes on Carrol's creek, south of Jacks- 
boro, Texas, and in the fights that followed with the 
Owens, Higgins, and Armstrongs, they had slain four of 
their warriors, but they managed to carry off three of 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 27 

their dead and only left one to be scalped by the whites. 

The next fight was with Ben Blanton, Glen Halsell and 
Lansing Hunt. These men were working for Dan Waggoner, 
and had penned some cattle that they might brand the 
calves at the old Thorn place about three miles southeast 
of our home. There was a family living on the old Thorn 
place by the name of Couch, but the man or head of the 
family was not at home and the three men were busy 
branding out in the corrals when the Indians charged 
them. The men ran to the house where Mrs. Couch and 
two little children were and prepared for a stubborn 
defence. The Indians attacked fiercely and tiine and 
again were driven back by the deadly aim of the three 
men besieged in the house. The Indians, after havii\g 
two of their number killed and one wounded in the knee 
became discouraged and withdrew, taking with them 
several horses and bridles and also their dead. According 
to Indian superstition there would be direful consequences 
if they failed to carry their dead off the battlefield, and 
this they never failed to do unless in unpreventable and 
exceptional cases. Their next attack was upon our home 
and in manner and results previously detailed. 

Resuming the course of the flight of the Indians with 
their captives and loot, following the three days rest with 
the wounded Indian on the south bank of Red river, they 
crossed Red river, taking a northwesterly course and cros- 
sing the North Fork of the Red river at the mouth of 
Stinking creek in what is now known as Greer county, 
Oklahoma. Continuing they went by Headquarters 
mountain and stayed all night, and next morning we 
crossed North fork again and thus gained the northeast 
side of that stream and kept a northwest course until we 
stopped on the Washita river the next night. Keeping a 
northwesterly course we reached the Canadian river at 
the end of another hard day's travel, and on its banks 
they pitched their camp for the night. Here in the night's 



28 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

repose Mrs. Luster and I made our first desperate attempt 
at escape from captivity. Mrs. Luster laid the plans and 
directed me during the day to be sure and fasten a certain 
fine horse so he could not get far away and that there 
was a mare that would stay with him. These two animals 
were stolen on this raid from our neighbors the Owens. 
I secured the knot of the rope on this horse between two 
limbs. In making the beds for the night they made one 
which they had Mrs. Luster, sister, and me occupy, and 
the Indians then slept all around us. I was so tired I 
went to sleep and did not wake till Mrs. Luster nudged 
me into wakefulness about one o'clock in the morning. 
The moon in the east was two hours high and the Indians 
all were sleeping soundly. 

We realized we were about to embark upon a perilous 
undertaking, but in our desperation we were quite re- 
signed to the consequences. As I viewed these savages, 
asleep and contemplated the cruel faces half lighted by 
the moon's rays that filtered through the leaves of the 
trees, the scene and the predicament thrilled me with a 
sense of indescribable horror. Mrs. Luster and I stole 
noiselessly away from our bunk upon the ground and 
with cat-like stealth tiptoed to the horses. Mrs. Luster 
found a bridle and this we put on the horse previously 
secured and led him to a log from which she could mount. 
Mrs. Luster then whispered to me to get a bridle for the 
mare I was to ride. I got the bridle but the Indians 
awoke before I could get the bridle on the mare and came 
running towards us. Meantime Mrs. Luster had mounted 
and I told her to get ^way if she could, whereupon she 
bade me good-bye and with the stillness and swiftness of 
a shadow disappeared into the night. I threw the bridle 
away and turned back and in this way for the time being 
disarmed the suspicion of the Indians who had been 
aroused and noting my absence started in pursuit. Upon 
returning I laid down and could sleep no more for thinking 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 29 




BLACK HAWK. 01^-Time Indian Warrior. 



30 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

and wondering what they would do to me for trying to 
escape and it seemed an age before day dawned once more. 
It was fully an hour after my return before they dis- 
covered that Mrs. Luster had escaped and then eight or 
ten Indians entered excitedly upon her pursuit. At length 
daylight came and all the Indians got up and the ones 
who had gone on a fruitless search for Mrs. Luster came 
back. They waked my little sister and had her get up 
and then all formed a line and one of them took and stood 
me against a big cotton wood tree. They took their 
bows an-d arrows and some old cap and ball pistols and 
were in line some twenty or thirty yards from me and the 
one who had conducted me to the tree made signs to me 
that they were going to riddle me with bullets and arrows 
and then take my scalp and have a big war dance over 
it. Here again my whole past life came into instant 
review and in the procession of events that quickly passed 
were visions of kindred, boyhood scenes of joy and sorrow 
and the woful and pathetic face of my lamented mother, 
stricken and dying from the deadly knife-thrusts and 
arrows of my fiendish captors. My little nine-year-old 
sister being made to look on the line of warriors with 
guns and bows and arrows trained on me burst forth into 
paroxysms of wailing cries, and sobbings. In this moment 
of doom I spoke to her in quieting, endearing terms, and 
when she thought the next instant would be my last she 
fell upon the ground and hid her face. I was sure they 
were going to kill me, and wanting the scene closed I 
made signs to them to shoot and end my unbearable 
suspense. When I did this, several of the Indians re- 
laxed their drawn weapons and thrust themselves be- 
tween me and the line of executioners; and then all the 
Indians came up and pushed the impulsive defenders 
aside and took a raw-hide rope and tied me to the tree. 
They then pulled long dead grass and collected a lot of 
dry brush from the nearby trees and placed all around 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



31 




MRS. J. D. BELL. Sister of Dot Babb. 

Taken into captivity by the Comanche Indians with Dot, as related in this book. 

Mrs. Bell, with her husband and six children, resides at Denton, Texas.' 



32 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

me, preparatory to cremating me alive, and during all 
this time my sister's cries broke the solitudes of these 
savage wilds. They had no matches, but used flint and 
steel in making fires; and the flint and steel they placed 
by the grass and brush piled about and over me, and then 
held what seemed a last council. Being more than ever 
tired of these preliminaries I made signs to them to fire 
the grass, but instead of doing so they all came forward 
saying, "Heap wano you," and untied me. 

I afterwards learned from them that my seeming total 
lack of fear and utter defiance of the most painful of 
deaths evidenced the qualities and courage needful in a 
warrior, and as such they spared my life and attached or 
adopted me as a prospective militant tribesman. Seeing 



• Nov. 28, 1911. 
Mr. A. S. Stinnett. 

Your letter of recent date has not been answered promptly 
on account of my absence as a delegate to the Peace Conference 
in Rome, Italy. I knew the Babb family well in Wise County 
many years ago, and I introduced and now have pending in the 
House of Representatives a bill to refund to them the value of 
the property destroyed, burned and carried away by the Co- 
manche Indians when Dot Babb, then a boy, and his sister 
Bianca, were captured and carried ofif by the Indians, and their 
home burned and part of the family killed, etc. I have never 
been able to get this bill through because there are hundreds of 
similar cases and this bill, if passed, would open the door for all 
similar cases. I have also a general bill now pending in Congress 
that would cover this and all similar cases, by permitting the 
claimant to bring suit in the Court of Claims against the U. S. 
Government, for the value of their property; and hope to get it 
through at the coming session of Congress. Bianca Babb (one 
of the prisoners) is now the wife of Mr. J. D. Bell, of Denton, 
Texas, and the claim of Dot Babb and herself has been fully 
proven by affidavits filed by me with the Committee on Indian 
Affairs (of which I am now the chairman), and I have no doubt 
of their justice or the truth of their statements, and I shall do 
everything in my power to aid them in recovering the value of 
the property destroyed, etc., but not for their personal injuries 
or imprisonment or for the death of other members of the family. 
as there is no precedent for such action of Congress, and at this 
late date it would be utterly useless to ask for such damages. 

Yours very truly, 

Jno. H. Stephens. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 33 




CONGRESSMAN JOHN H. STEPHENS 



-3 



34 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

the pall of death lifted from me, m}- little sister embraced 
me and wept for joy. The next step was to take up the 
trail and recapture Mrs. Luster, in whose escape the 
previous night I had assisted, for which I so nearly for- 
feited my life. Mrs. Luster was a young widow of at- 
tractive person, and a sub-chief directing the marauding 
band that captured us saw and was conquered by Mrs. 
Luster's beauty at the time of the attack on our home 
and instantly resolved to take her along as the favorite 
of the miscellaneous collection of squaws attached to his 
camp. As would be the case with any refined woman, 
Mrs. Luster looked with abhorrence and loathing upon 
this enforced union with a Comanche warrior without 
warrant 'or ceremony other than the savage decree, and 
the cruel circumstances that made her the helpless victim 
of an unspeakable violation, humiliation, and involuntary 
debasement. The other Indian braves concurred com- 
placently, and as is their tribal custom scrupulously 
respected the exclusive rights and ownership of the chief, 
to his latest appropriation of a fair pale-faced mate. 
This Lothario of the forest and plain, failing in his aveng- 
ing designs upon my life as atoning for the escape of his 
white princess, who on the fleetest horse of all the camp 
had sped away as if on the shadowy wings of the night, 
was in no temper to accept resignedly his distressing loss. 
The sun had now risen, and summoning one of the most, 
alert and daring horsemen of the tribe as his assistant, 
two of the swiftest horses were mounted and the trail 
taken up in determined pursuit of the fleeing prize. For 
some distance the fresh tracks pointed the way but at 
length it was found she had doubled back, crossed, and 
re-crossed on a trail, finally disappearing in the quick- 
sand bed of a wide shallow stream. Bewildered and ex- 
hausted the pursuit was abandoned and the dispirited 
chief rejoined his band, conscious that the ardently coveted 
quarry was forever lost to him. Mrs. Luster was a daring 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



35 




INDIAN WARRIORS 

Tom Blackstar (sitting), son of great warrior. Charley Mumcyki (standing). 

descended from fierce chiefs. 



36 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

horsewoman and equally at home whether in the track- 
less forests or the unknown prairies. 

The third day following her escape she halted that her 
horse might rest and graze and being insufferably fatigued 
she fell into a deep sleep. Thus off her guard she was 
discovered and captured by three Kiowa Indians who 
took her to their main camp many miles distant, and 
again she was made the consort of an Indian and this 
time a Kiowa chief. Mrs. Luster was thus made to 
suffer an excruciating penalty for her captivating personal 
charm and beauty. She was about twenty-two years old 
and a shapely vivacious brunette at the very climax of a 
vigorous young womanhood, and in her captivity had 
she willed it she could have become the idol of the warrior 
chiefs and the reigning queen of either the Comanche or 
Kiowa tribes. If she had read the frightful horoscope in 
which was foreordained the death of her brother and her 
husband in the Civil War and her captivity and mal- 
treatment that followed, she doubtless would have pre- 
ferred the forfeit of her life to the terrible ordeal. How- 
ever, the fates decreed, with invincible will she yielded not. 

Within thirty days after her adoption into the Kiowa 
tribe, during which period she kept tensest vigil day and 
night, she found and embraced the means of her effectual 
and final escape from savage captors, and return to the 
welcoming ranks of civilization something like eight 
hundred miles in an opposite direction from that in which 
her unwilling, perilous, and distressful journey began. 
The Kiowas would turn loose all their horses at night to 
graze, except one to be ridden the next morning in round- 
ing up the herd. For one long weary month Mrs. Luster 
kept a keen vigil for an opportune moment to slip away, 
and at length one dark stormy night it came. As the 
Indians slept Mrs. Luster between midnight and dawn 
mounted the horse kept at the camp and once more 
essayed the daring dash for liberty; a dash, though im- 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 37 

posing almost unbearable hardship and suffering, this 
time to be crowned with triumphant success. The deluge 
of rain in which she sped over the pathless wild obliterated 
the tracks of her fleeing horse, making fruitless all efforts 
at pursuit and her escape secure. 

The next day, as she drifted along without definite 
course or aim other than a determined fHght from her 
bondsmen and the chance upon an unknown fate and 
destination, she mistook some United States soldiers for 
Indians in pursuit, and in a desperate effort to get away 
she undertook to outride them. The soldiers mistook 
her for an Indian and gave lively chase, catching up with 
and capturing her at the end of a twenty-mile record run 
under whip and spur. There was much mutual surprise 
and gratification when identities were established, and 
the rejoicings on both sides were unconfined. Though 
they were strangers, Mrs. Luster soon related her harrow- 
ing story. It evoked the deepest s\TTipathy from the 
soldiers, who were lavish in the kindnesses and courtesies 
extended her. The soldiers afforded her a safe escort to 
Council Grove, Kansas, at that time one of the nearest 
outposts of civiHzation, and here she took up her tem- 
porary abode. Being young and attractive, she was soon 
married to a Mr. Van Noy, and subsequently the couple 
established a permanent home in Galena, Kansas, where 
she died in the month of April, 1904. It is not in all the 
annals of romance or realism where a woman was made 
the victim of more miserable circumstances. While one 
shudders at the chapter of horror, a lively satisfaction is 
experienced in the knowledge that she regained her 
equanimity and spent the last and longest span of her 
eventful life not in the mood of brooding bitter memories, 
but in the atmosphere and spirit of serene repose, re- 
ciprocal happiness, and affection. The cruel inhuman 
massacre of my mother and the inexpressible abuses and 
sorrows of Mrs. Luster are impressive illustrations of the 



38 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

sacrifices and perils of the pioneer women of the Texas 
frontiers. That they faced and met these dangers and 
the attendant direful consequences with unflinching and 
unwavering fortitude are sufficient themes for every 
eulogy or tribute that could be perpetuated in imperish- 
able marble or expressed in the best eloquence of speech 
or pen of all grateful and patriotic men and women now 
and for ever more. 

The morning after the flight of Mrs. Luster and my 
narrow escape from the infliction of death the Indians 
broke camp, and after dividing themselves into several 
groups they proceeded upon their march in different 
directions. One group took my little sister, whom I did 
not see again till we met at Fort Arbuckle, Indian Ter- 
ritory (since included in the state of Oklahoma), some 
two years later. There were eight Indians in the group 
to which I was attached and it took us ten days to reach 
the headquarters camp or Indian village on the Arkansas 
river. On this last leg of our long journey we had to walk 
most of the way, as the horses were so nearly exhausted 
they had not the strength to carry us. At the head- 
quarters were the squaws and the children living in tepees 
scattered along the river a distance of two miles or more. 
The return of the braves from a long raid was made the 
occasion of much demonstration, and having a white boy 
captive produced a sensation in the village. The Indians 
boys would crowd around and point towards me saying, 
"Tibow trousop tibow", and this I soon learned signified 
white person. As is well known the squaws did all the 
manual labor and camp work generally, such as setting 
up or taking down and moving the tepees, carrying the 
wood and water, doing the cooking and all things else. 
Taking advantage of my helplessness and ignorance, they 
made me help them in these unmanly menial tasks the 
greater part of the first winter. At length the boys and 
the young men informed me that I was being imposed 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



39 



upon by the squaws and that I could do as they did and 
let the squaws do everything in accordance with a time 
honored practice and custom. I therefore asserted my 
rights and forthwith disavowed these domestic tasks and 
consumed my time with play and helping care for the 






cHlhK HORSE BACK 
A daring, unconquerable Comanche Chief, who waged relentless war and con- 
ducted more murderous raids and directed more horrible massacres 
than perhaps any other leader of the savages. 



40 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

horses. From four to eight famihes would group their 
horses together. At that time the Comanches had col- 
lected from frequent raids large herds of horses covering 
every variety from gentle work stock to untamed wild 
bronchos. I joined the Indian boys in catching, riding, 
and breaking wild horses, which was an exciting sport and 
an excellent pastime. 

On horseback we chased deer, antelope, and buffalo 
and made frequent kills with bows and arrows, as the 
Indians then had but few guns. In the main our food was 
buffalo meat, but sometimes in the late winter when 
buffalo became poor we would kill and eat the fattest 
horse. At this time the Comanches were divided into 
four different bands and were headed and directed by 
four different chiefs. The Noconas had a chief by name 
of Horseback, and his brother Pernemey, one of the most 
daring, fierce, and desperate Indians that ever lived, 
claimed nie as his own. He had an old cap and ball six- 
shooter, and one day he loaded it and after painting 
himself and bedecking his hideous person with an unusual 
array of horns and feathers he had me follow him into the 
sand hills. He had with him his shield and lance. 
Mounted on his fiery horse he had me take the six-shooter 
and told me when he charged me I was expected to take 
accurate aim and shoot at his body and when he turned 
his back on the retreat I was expected to shoot at his 
back. According to this programme, with lance in hand 
he charged me and retreated from me four times. I shot 
at him as I was directed to do. As he advanced he held 
his shield in front, and as he turned for the retreat he 
would swiftly shift the shield over on his back. I shot at 
him six times and hit the shield each time. He compli- 
mented m}' accuracy and declared I would make a trust- 
worthy warrior. The shield was made from the thick 
skin of an old buffalo bull's neck, and was fashioned into 
a circular cupping shape somiCthing like a saucer. It was 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 41 




Indian in Full Regalia. 



42 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

covered with heavy buckskin and in dimensions about 
two feet in diameter. These shields were practically- 
impenetrable. Skilfully handled by the Indians as they 
were from long practice and usage they afforded great 
protection, and many an Indian life was thus saved in 
the unequal combat between the Indians armed with 
bows and arrows and the white man with rifles and 
revolvers. 

I was with this band or sub-division of the Comanches 
about sixteen months. During the time fifteen warriors 
took me and headed in a southeasterly direction. I 
thought surely they were bound for Texas on one of their 
periodic raids, and I was elated at the thought of getting 
back and finding an opportunity to detach myself from 
my savage captors. I was especially possessed with this 
conviction inasmuch as our mounts were carefully chosen 
and our supply of arrows unusually heavy. We had been 
out six days when we reached the Washita river, and 
surprised seven Caddo Indians on a buffalo chase. These 
Caddoes were on horseback and as there was tribal hos- 
tility between the Comanches and Caddoes the moment 
they saw us they fled at utmost speed. Pernerney, our 
chief, gave command, "Kill all of them; they are Caddoes." 
We proceeded to execute the command and soon killed 
the entire squad of seven. One of the number having an 
extra good mount we had to chase ten or twelve miles 
before we caught up with him. There were only three of 
our party at the end of the pursuit, consisting of Pernerney, 
his brother Tutchis-pooder, and myself. Pernernc}^, being 
in the lead, was the first to overtake him and had shot 
him twice, from the effects of which he had fallen from 
his horse and was sitting up as we all approached. Per- 
nerney handed me his old cap-and ball pistol and com- 
manded me to shoot him in the head, and this I did, 
Tuchis-pooder then scalped him, and we took his horse 
and saddle and left him Iving where he was killed. Out 



In the Bosom or the Comanches 43 

of these seven Indians slain, six were scalped. The 
seventh, being a woman, was not scalped, according to 
tribal custom. 

As we retraced our way to where we had started the 
attack on the Caddoes, we found the other twelve of our 
marauding band, and in four or five days we arrived at 
the Indian village we had left for the raid. The scalps 
of the Caddoes were exhibited as trophies, and a big war 
dance followed. Much preparation was always made for 
these "gala fetes," known to the Indians as "war dances." 
Large arbors were constructed with such materials as 
poles and brush, the dimensions usually being_ eighty to 
one hundred feet square. The entrance to these brush 
temples was by means of a deep trench or tunnel in the 
earth. The Indian warriors would place the latest scalps 
on poles set in the ground and then dance around them, 
making medicine as they termed it in Enghsh, or in their 
own language "pohockit mahamey." In these exercises 
they would be in full feathers and war paint with much 
of their fighting paraphernalia. They would circle in a 
half crouching attitude, keeping time to the beating of a 
rudely fashioned drum, emitting unearthly yelps that 
could be likened unto the composite noise of the bark of 
the coyote and wail of the panther ; in fact a distinctively 
ferocious, vibrant, inhuman sound calculated to give one 
the "cold shivers." Nothing could be more strangely 
weird than these awesome orgies of the Indian war dance, 
a mingled exultation over their latest deeds of horror and 
suppHcation to the "Great Father" to give them more 
courage and power in their raids and battles that they 
might kill and exterminate all their foes and enemies. 
They believed in a supreme being, and instead of saying 
God as we do they would say "Our sure enough Father," 
which in their language is "To-bicke." Their faith was 
that they would all go to heaven unless their scalps were 
taken, when they would be doomed or forever lost. It 



44 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

was due to this belief that they scalped their dead foes, 
with exception of the negro who, according to their theory 
had no soul. However, they would kill negroes so as to 
get them out of the way and also to prevent them from 
killing any of the Indian tribe. 

During all the period of iny captivity my father strove 
diligently to get some trace of me, to ascertain if my life 
had been spared, and if so to rescue or recover me. In 
his effort to leam something of and locate me, my father 
spent much time at Fort Arbuckle, a post for United 
States soldiers. These soldiers had an Indian interpreter 
by the name of Harris P. Jones, who aided my father in 
the work of inducing the Indians to give me up. The 
Indians would say that I was dead, but this father did 
not believe as he had received a letter from an Indian 
trader in Kansas who had seen and talked with me and 
whom I had given my father's address with request to 
write him the particulars of my location and the specific 
band of Indians, that had me. 

As pre\dously mentioned the Comanches were gov- 
erned by four chiefs, and Chief Horseback headed the 
band to which I was attached. Chief Esserhaby governed 
another band, and in many respects was a most remarkable 
Indian. He had splendid stature and a commanding 
presence and, for an Indian, unusual intelligence, and 
inasmuch as I owed so much to him for my safe return 
and the further fact that he rendered such conspicuous 
service in leading the Indians from the warpath to the 
reservations and in establishing friendliness between the 
Indians and the whites, I shall digress for the purpose of 
briefly depicting this distinguished Comanche chief. The 
chieftancy with the Indians was not an hereditary au- 
thority but rather bestowed by the elective choice of the 
respective tribes. Some of the more essential qualifica- 
tions were physical fitness, wisdom in tribal affairs, a 
record for dash and daring, and valor and firmness whether 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



45 



in camp or battle. These were the requisites of leadership 
by which the braves were guided in choosing their chiefs. 
Upon this standard Esserhaby was pre-eminently a great 
and powerful chief, and was so regarded by both the 
Indians and the whites. Esserhaby was a native of Texas, 
and at the time of his birth the Comanche tribe had great 




CHIEF ESSERHABEY (Taken Ironi an old picture) 



46 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

numerical strength and dominated a large division of 
Texas. They were notably fierce and aggressive, and 
also artful and courageous in battle, and stubbornly 
contested every inch as they were beaten back. So long 
and persistently did they continue to struggle that the 
remnant of this once vastly numerous and powerful tribe 
at the termination had an aspect the next thing to an- 
nihilation. 

Esserhaby was such a dreaded warrior chief that in 
1864 J. W. Throckmorton, then governor of Texas, looking 
to the pacification of the Indian and ending the struggle 
involving such a frightful loss of life and burden upon the 
resources of the state, devised a means of communication 
with Esserhaby and arranged a specific date for a con- 
ference or council at Austin, the state capital, the par- 
ticipants to be a large Indian delegation composed of 
chiefs and prominent tribesmen headed by Esserhaby, 
and on behalf of Texas the governor and eminent civil 
officials and commanders of the state constabulary, in- 
cluding several captains of the Ranger forces, who had 
done heroic and sanguinary fighting upon the frontiers. 
The deputation of Indians under the leadership of their 
chief Esserhaby was met at the frontier by Texas Rangers 
under whose guidance as the guests of Texas they were 
safely conducted to Austin, where the conference was had 
on schedule time. This council was historical and in 
many respects notable. The immensity of the population 
and power of the United States and the increased popu- 
lation and strength of Texas were made clear by ex- 
planation, illustration, and ample object lessons. Chief 
Esserhaby and his retinue of colleagues were visibly and 
profoundly impressed with what they had seen, heard, 
and been taught. They were entertained and maintained 
at the expense of the state and were captivated by the 
consideration and kindness extended by Governor Throck- 
morton and all the other officials and by the people as a 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 47 

whole. A treaty was entered into by which Esserhaby 
and his immediate followers would become the white 
man's friends and would discontinue forever all acts of 
hostility and depredations, and live on terms of mutual 
peace and respect for life and property rights with all 
white settlers upon the borderland of Texas. They 
further covenanted to exercise their influence to the 
utmost in restraining other divisions of the Comanche 
tribe and the Indians of all the other tribes hostile to the 
whites. With the consummation of these treaties and 
covenants and after much reciprocal felicitation and the 
bestowal of abundant food and valuable gifts, these 
distinguished Indian guests were escorted on the long 
return journey to their distant nomadic homes in the 
primordial wilds of forest and plain. 

Be it said to the credit of this splendid chief and truly 
great and "noble red man" that not in the slightest degree 
even in the nature of a trespass was there ever any in- 
fraction of the treaty terms, spirit, or covenants upon his 
part or that of his band or immediate subjects. It can 
also be said of him that his constant exhortation to his 
fellow tribesmen, whether around the camp fires, upon the 
chase or in the councils of the chiefs, was that of abiding 
permanent peace, friendship and honesty. In his irre- 
vocable and inflexible stand he had much to combat in 
the diabolical perversity and fiery impetuosity of other 
chiefs, but all the while there was manifest a gradual 
waning and yielding of the opposition. The great good 
that resulted from the immovable firmness and unfailing 
Royalty of this Indian sage and humanitarian could not be 
expressed in mere words. Some day will come that tardy 
recognition, when on a granite pedestal a great marble 
shaft (wrought from Texas quarries), will tower aloft, and, 
surrounded by the monuments to others of the long honor 
roll of Texan heroes and patriots, will commemorate and 
emblazon the magnanimity and unwonted fidelity, the 



48 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

loftiness of impulse and character of Chief Esserhaby, 
once dreaded as an implacable warrior foe, and withal a 
big brained masterful child of nature, whose vibrant soul- 
strings when touched by the benevolent and patriotic 
demeanor and entreaties of Governor Throckmorton 
responded with all the unison and perfection in harmony 
of the inspired music of the ancient harp or lyre. 

Twenty years later, when the several hundred Co- 
manches and Kiowas, the reinnants of these once powerful 
and numerous tribes, were established on their reservations 
across the Red river from western Texas in the Wichita 
mountains and adjacent plains, the little city of Wichita 
Falls, Texas, the then terminus of the Fort Worth and 
Denver railroad 114 miles west of Fort Worth, elected to 
celebrate its third anniversary and in a manner and on a 
scale befitting its splendid growth and terminal im- 
portance. Being then the first and farthest western 
railroad outpost, it was resolved to invest the celebration 
with such features as would not only be entertaining and 
pleasing but memorable and historical as well. Wichita 
Falls was then the extreme western railroad gateway to 
the vast and but little known Panhandle of Texas, north- 
eastern New Mexico, No-Man's-Land, and all of the 
immense area of southwestern and northwestern Indian 
Territory, now embraced within the state of Oklahoma. 
This region in scope and breadth almost beyond compre- 
hensive grasp, and so recently the habitat of the Comanche, 
Kiowa and Apache Indians and the un-numbered buffalo, 
was now in that first transitional stage that made it 
possible and safe for exploration and occupation by the 
world's biggest cattle ranches that so quickly followed. 
Therefore, the hardy, venturesome denizens of the great 
western wilds and those of the older settlements of the 
state and other states were invited to attend this cele- 
bration of one week, and they attended by the thousands. 
The climax of the celebration was the presence of some 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 49 




JOHN PASAWAKY, Son of Chief Esserhabey. 



— 4 



50 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

five hundred Comanche and Kiowa Indians, including 
several hundred ex-warriors under the command of the 
grand old Chief Esserhaby, and that of the renowned 
ex-governor, James W. Throckmorton, and John Ireland, 
the then governor of Texas. The lusty young city of 
Wichita Falls was lavishly decorated, and enthusiasm 
and hospitality in an unparalleled degree abounded on 
every hand, as there was with one and all a consciousness 
that this unique and extensive if not prodigious fore- 
gathering was to be the prelude to a momentous new era, 
in fact the christening and baptismal ceremony of one of 
the world's latest and greatest empires; and utterly im- 
possible would it have been for the anticipations and 
purposes of this multitude to have found expression under 
a more impressive, auspicious, and inspiring general 
setting. Every incident and circumstance seemed to 
conspire to foreshadow and foretell the uninterrupted 
industrial progress and substantial achievements ordained 
to follow. 

In pursuance of a studiously planned and prearranged 
program the celebration was fittingly inaugurated with a 
parade reaching such proportions as to be nothing less 
than a splendid pageant. Colorful and impressive this 
parade was headed by Governor Jno. Ireland and the 
venerable ex-governor J. W. Throckmorton, and other 
distinguished visitors, including men conspicuous as daring 
pioneers and for services rendered the state. Next in line 
were officers and soldiers from Fort Sill army post across 
the border in Indian Territory, then a company of Texas 
Rangers and veteran scouts and peace officers of the 
frontier wilds. Following closely was the Indian con- 
tingent, composed of about two hundred erstwhile warriors 
with chief Esserhaby and other chiefs at their head, all 
mounted and in full war paints and the same equipment 
and paraphernalia that had seen service in many raids 
and battles with the whites; then uniformed fraternal 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 51 

organizations and representatives of civic and benevolent 
societies with citizens from the ranks of business, labor, 
and the professions bringing up the rear, making in all a 
procession exceeding a mile in length. Military and other 
brass bands were interspersed, enlivening the stately 
march to the barbecue grounds, where in characteristic 
western style and hospitality a bounteous feast was 
served. The repast was greatly enjoyed and especially 
by the Indians, for whom a superabundance of fat beef 
had been barbecued. Fervid patriotic and prophetic 
speeches were the features of the afternoon's program for 
the whites, and racing and competitive shooting with bows 
and arrows engaged and entertained the Indians. The 
entertainment committee enclosed several acres of smooth 
plateau on an eminence overlooking Wichita Falls with a 
high board wall and here the Indians bivouacked and 
thrilled the citizens and visiting throngs with their weird 
war dances each night of the several days celebration. 
The Indians lent these war dances all the coloring, zest 
and uncanniness of such performances during the darkest 
hours of the bitterly murderous hostilities that had pre- 
ceded a few" short years only. In attendance upon the 
war dance of the first night there were thousands of eager 
spectators, and at the height of the performance there was 
a temporary suspension that there might be enacted a 
scene that for dramatic aspect and historical effect could 
have had but few parallels in the more striking and in- 
spiring episodes of this or any other age. 

Upon a raised stand or platform stood ex-governor 
Throckmorton, imposing and majestic in stature and 
erectness, and with his snow white hair and beard and 
his undimmed eyes flashing fiery enthusiasm he looked 
every inch the grandest of patriarchs. By his side the 
leonine imperturbable Chief Esserhaby, with soldierly 
mien sat upon a gorgeously caparisoned cream-colored 
charger. As these two immortals, each a hero philosopher 



52 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

and law-giver, looked into each other's eyes with pro- 
longed clasped hands, there were vociferous cheers from 
the excited multitude whose echoes will roll on when 
memories are no more. Let the imagination be exerted 
and taxed in an attempt to reproduce this extraordinary 
picture with its wealth of coloring, changeful scenes, and 
kaleidoscopic background; for the expression of speech 
or pen cannot. In the glow and shadows of bonfires 
blazing here and there throughout the grounds, saturnine 
subdued Indian warriors, blanketed, painted, and highly 
bedecked with feathers, beads, and multi-colored orna- 
mentation, silently and noiselessly stalked as only an 
Indian can. Joyous and expectant men and wom.en of 
city and country from over Texas and several other 
states touched elbows with dignataries of state, soldiers 
and officers, civil and military, with a spirit and senti- 
ment of reciprocal good-will manifest in every act. greeting 
or expression. With the unclasping of hands with Chief 
Esserhaby, Governor Throckmorton was formally pre- 
sented to the multitude, over whom fell an instant hush 
as in resounding voice he related, retold, and explained 
the treaty made years before with Chief Esserhaby, and 
how this great Indian had kept the faith and proven an in- 
valuable ally and instrumentahty in holding the hostile 
Indians in check, and the final establishment of peace. 
In his peroration this venerable and beloved statesman 
and patriot paid a beautiful, glowing, and well-earned 
tribute to Chief Esserhaby, a colossus of his tribe and race. 
During the delivery of the oration by Governor Throck- 
morton, Chief Esserhaby was near by, mounted on the 
beautiful cream-colored horse he had ridden that day in 
the parade. At the conclusion of Governor Throck- 
morton's address Esserhaby was introduced to the big 
concourse assembled, and from his horse he delivered a 
response notable for its candor and philosoph\- and for 
flashes of natural eloquence as pleasing and thrilling as 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 53 




Chief Hsserhabey's Grandson. Squaws and Papoose. 



54 In the Bosom of the Comanche s 

they were rare and unexpected. Chief Esserhaby spoke 
some English and had a very good understanding of it, 
but he lacked the necessary fluency in Enghsh for so 
important an oration. He therefore dehvered the re- 
markable address in the Indian language followed by a 
skilful, trained, and experienced interpreter from the 
government Indian agency. In his introductory remarks 
Esserhaby told of the inherent convictions of the great 
Indian tribes that in the invasion and loss of their country 
and hunting grounds they had suffered a great injustice 
at the hands of the whites; how the whites were always 
advancing and taking more and more territory and that 
eventually the Indians would lose the heritage of their 
forefathers, the God-given birth-rights of their ancient 
race. From this he passed into a recital of the perfidy 
and broken faith on both sides and the consequent decrees 
of their councils to go on the war-path and in that manner 
seek reprisals and circumvent the extension of white 
settlements and colonies and drive back and destroy 
those farthest out on the frontiers. He then described in 
dramatic voice and gesture many of the battles he had 
waged, told of the victims and the scalps taken, and de- 
picted the horrors and agonies of the dying. Within the 
hearing of his voice were not a few whites who had also 
participated in the very confhcts and battles he was 
portraying. Here he related how messages had reached 
him, as one of the powerful chiefs of the Comanches, from 
Governor Throckmorton, the big white chief of Texas, 
asking if at Austin, the capital of the state, a conference 
could not be held looking to the formulation of such 
treaties and covenants that would end the strife and put 
a stop to pillage and massacre; and how he had barkened 
to the overture and had had the ruHng chiefs assemble, 
and in council consent to the program of Governor Throck- 
morton. 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 55 

At this juncture the unlettered natural Indian orator 
became more fervid, and in ringing accents described 
what he saw and did at Austin under the directions and 
guardianship of the great Governor Throckmorton. He 
narrated the circumstance of his returning to his tribes- 
men and saying to them that if they persisted in war they 
were doomed to extermination, that when an Indian 
warrior fell or perished in battle his place could not be 
filled, and that to slay one white one there were thousands 
upon thousands to fill the ranks. Using almost his exact 
language and expressions, he said the white man was like 
unto the leaves of their boundless forests or the blades of 
grass that blanketed the uncharted plains and plateaus of 
all the distant wilds the Indians had ever seen or known, 
and that the Indian had no alternative but death or 
peace. He then explained to them the pledges he had 
made the great white father, and the tribesmen owing 
allegiance to him endorsed his pledges and treaties and 
were thereafter as steadfast in peace as they had been 
aggressive and merciless in war. In a vein of much feeling 
and pathos, in which he referred to the sunset of his days 
and pronounced a burning eulogium upon Governor 
Throckmorton and others of his distinguished white 
friends and colleagues, this splendid masterful old warrior 
chief concluded what was perhaps one of the most re- 
markable, impassioned, forceful, and dramatic set speeches 
or orations ever delivered by an Indian in any age present 
or past. 

Resuming the narrative leading up to the preliminaries 
incident to my ultimate recovery from captivity and 
restoration to my father, I should explain I had been 
held by the band of Comanches headed by chief Horse- 
back, and my captivity was known to chief Esserhaby, 
who now being a friend of the whites was anxious and 
ready to do all he could toward my release. He pleaded 
my cause with chief Horseback and spoke feelingly of the 



56 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

treaty with Governor Throckmorton, whom he termed 
"Buck-skm Coat," and represented as a steadfast friend 
of all the Indians. Shortly after this Esserhaby visited 
Fort Arbuckle and made known to H. P. Jones, Indian 
interpreter, and my father, where and by whom I was 
held and an understanding was had that Esserhaby 
should journey to the headquarters of chief Horseback as 
special envoy in behalf of my recovery. According to 
appointment he arrived at our camp or village head- 
quarters and was accompanied by two of his squaws or 
spouses. They were guests at the camp some five weeks 
and during the time there were frequent big councils, the 
object of them being the consideration of returning me 
to my people. After a display of much obstinacy it was 
finally agreed that I would be permitted to exercise my 
own choice or pleasure between remaining a tribesman 
or warrior and rejoining m}^ father and civilization. Chief 
Horseback and many of his band were confident that 
after I had habituated myself so unreservedly to Indian 
life, and with such apparent reconciliation and satis- 
faction, I would elect to stay with them. However, in 
this they were in great error, as my decision was instant 
and unalterable to return as quickly as possible to my 
father and kindred. It was therefore decreed that I 
should accompany Chief Esserhaby, with a solemn pact 
and understanding upon part of all that if Esserhaby 
failed to deliver me to my father I would return at once to 
chief Horseback's band. Hasty preparations were made 
for our departure. 

During my residence with the Indians many mutual 
attachments had been formed. I was at an impressionable 
age, and reciprocated the fondness and affection for me 
that had found lodgment with a large number of these 
Indians, including braves, squaws, and their boys who 
were my closest companions. Therefore, my going 
seemed to cast a gloom over the entire camp and there 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



57 



were enacted many pathetic scenes that I shall never 
forget. Not a few cried and wept bitterly, and notably 
one squaw and her son who had claimed me as son and 
brother and as such were my guardians and protectors, 
and to whose immediate family and household I had been 
attached. This squaw was a sister to chief Horseback 
and she had two brothers besides the one that captured 




MISS MARGIE BABB— Baby Siser of Dot Babb 



58 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

me, Pemey and Tutchispooder. The close companion- 
ship had cemented bonds of affection almost as sacred as 
family ties. Their kindnesses to me had been lavish and 
unvarying, and my friendship and attachment in return 
were deep and sincere, and I could scarcely restrain my 
emotions when time came for the final good-bye. Esser- 
haby in getting me detached and into his possession had 
not only to intercede, plead and confer for weeks, but to 
ransom me as well, giving chief Horseback for his use and 
distribution several fine horses and numerous saddles, 
bridles, blankets, and other valuable gifts. 

The ransom now having been delivered to chief Horse- 
back, and all fomialities of the farewell and separation 
being over, I was duly transferred to the custody of chief 
Esserhaby, who, with me, his squaws, and a few warriors, 
departed in the direction of Fort Arbuckle, which journey 
we made in easy stages. We would meet other bands of 
Indians and halt for several days at a place, and were 
six weeks reaching Fort Arbuckle. Esserhaby enjoyed 
the sport of horse-racing and was capable of shrewd 
scheming in winning horses from other bands of Indians. 
Esserhaby had with him some very swift horses, and when 
we met a band of Cheyenne Indians he matched a number 
of races, the winner in each race to take the competitor's 
horse. I was a trained jockey and did all the riding for 
Esserhaby, and out of six races we won six horses, having 
won every race. Before the races took place, Esserhaby 
had me to round up six of the best and fleetest horses, and 
with him and the horses steal off to a secluded flat several 
miles distant and there test or try out the speed of each 
horse. A given distance was designated for me to cover, 
and as I would do so Esserhaby would count; and when 
the six horses had been run over this course at their 
utmost speed he had their record. In the final races with 
the Cheyennes he entered his proven animals, and as 
previously stated won every race pulled off. This success 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 59 

so pleased Esserhaby that he wanted to postpone in- 
definitely our return to Fort Arbuckle, or at all events 
till we could win a large herd of horses from the Cheyennes 
and others. To this I would not consent, as I was eager 
to unite with my father, who was reported as waiting at 
Fort Arbuckle with the hope and beHef that I would be 
brought in, Esserhaby assented and agreed that he 
would forego the further racing program and hasten on 
our journey. 

We were now on the Canadian river, and in three days 
reached the Washita and followed the course of this 
stream till reaching a point where Anadarko now stands. 
The Washita was running bank full from heavy rains on 
its head waters, and, as we were on the north side, Esser- 
haby said that we would have to swim over and proceed 
down the south side of this river. Everyone in the party, 
squaws included, was an expert swimmer, and with pack 
mules, horses, camp equipment, and general impedimenta 
we plunged into the raging river and without mishap or 
great difficulty we landed on the south bank at about 
noon. We camped for the rest of the day, and in the 
brilliant sunshine of the afternoon dried our apparel, 
bedding, and general camp outfit. Early the next morning 
we resumed the journey, and about eleven o'clock we 
sighted a bevy of white men camped at no great distance. 
Esserhaby and his lieutenant made for the camp, and 
upon arriving beckoned or signaled to me and the squaws 
to follow with the horses and accoutrements. 

As we approached, I saw my father, H. P. Jones, the 
United States interpreter, and two other white men. 
Arriving at their camp my father kept his back turned to 
me, thinking he would surprise me, asking me numerous 
questions, among which when I had seen my father last; 
and I answered, "I am looking at him now." He could 
endure the suspense no longer and racked with emotion 
and crying he ran to me and embraced me with such 



60 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

exclamations as "This is my long lost darling boy." A 
convulsive joy or hysteria seized and for a while claimed 
both of us, and the emotions that surged and possessed us 
beggar and defy adequate expression. It was not only a 
case of lost being found, but one as if the dead had actually 
risen. A restoration unbelievable and one that had given 
an illusory hope, such as the mirage that always remains 
just ahead but forever continues unreal and intangible. 
And all this was changed into a reality, and the son so 
long lost and so often believed or imagined dead under 
the most cruel and murderous infliction was again in the 
embrace of an affectionate father. The reunion with my 
father while yielding unbounded mutual joy had its 
bitterness from the awakened memory of that terrible 
scene of a beloved wife and mother in unspeakable 
butchery forfeiting her precious life through a futile 
effort to shelter and defend helpless children dearer to 
her than life itself. 

Some hours of absolute rest necessarily followed this 
meeting that had so taxed the emotions and strength of 
both, and we did not proceed on our return journey till 
in the afternoon when we had had time for composure, 
refreshment and recuperation. My father and Mr. Jones, 
the Indian interpreter, had become impatient as a result 
of the prolonged absence of chief Esserhaby, who had 
been out several weeks on the special mission of my 
recovery; and when we met them they were on an ex- 
pedition either to find Esserhaby or provide some other 
means for getting in touch with me and having me turned 
over to them. In the middle of the afternoon we broke 
camp and took up our march to Pauls Valley on the 
Washita river. This point we reached the next afternoon, 
and spent the night and several days as the guests of a 
Mr. Chanler, who had married a Mexican girl that he had 
rescued from the Indians a few years before. They then 
had one child, but on coming in contact with them many 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



61 



years later I found they had reared a large progeny of 
boys and girls. From Mr. Chanler's place we pushed on 
to Fort Arbuckle, and there my father had final settle- 
ment with chief Esserhaby in the way of cash and horses 
which pleased him highly. It will be recalled Esserhaby 
had ransomed me from chief Horseback with several 
horses, and for his work and success in restoring me to 
my father Esserhaby was liberally rewarded with both 
monev and horses. All this was done solely and inde- 




H. C. BABB. Brother of Dot Babb. 



62 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

pendently by my father, who was not assisted to the 
extent of one cent by the United States government, 
charged with the security and protection of the Hves and 
property of its citizens and subjects. 

As was mentioned some time previously, my sister 
had been recovered from another band of Indians and 
had been with father at Fort Arbuckle awaiting my 
return. In their projected search for tidings of Esserhaby 
and me, father and Mr. Jones took my sister with them 
till reaching the hospitable home of Mr. Chanler, where 
she was made to sojourn pending our return journey to 
Fort Arbuckle; and here I saw my little sister for the 
first time after the marauding Indians that captured us 
were sub-divided, she being taken by one band or division, 
and I by the other. To realize upon our meeting that her 
life had been spared and that she was in robust health 
was a delight and pleasure I am unable to describe. But 
again I was to drink from the cup of sorrow and bitterness 
more deeply than ever in witnessing the anguish and 
consuming grief of my sister, who had just learned that 
our heroic mother did not survive the deadly thrusts of 
the blood-stained lance, knife, and arrow. I had to draw 
on my every resource, courage, and strength to sustain 
myself through this chapter of horrors, of which every 
page was crimson with tragedy or replete with fantastic 
and harrowing adventure and experience. Finally when 
I realized the curtain was about to descend and shut out 
the hideous life of savagery, my feelings and spirits began 
to rise, and with many expressions of gratitude to chief 
Esserhaby and Mr. Jones, father and I entered upon the 
last lap that would take us out of the dominions of the 
Indian Territory and away from its struggles, weirdness, 
and savage hate and exploit and back to Texas where we 
would undertake to re-establish the family altar and out- 
live and master the bitter memories, calamities and 
adversities of the past. 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



63 



The following day we once inore reined up at Mr. 
Chanler's house, and being joined by m}' sister and all 
mounted on ponies, we hurried on with quickened steps 
and in four or five days arrived at Red river, the boundary 
between Texas and the then notorious and fateful Indian 
Territory. We found Red river several hundred yards 
wide and almost bank full from prolonged heavy rains, 
and our only alternative was to swim across to the Texas 
side. This performance, with the river a raging torrent, 
involved much peril, daring, and skill. To find a landing 
place on the farther side and to test the force of the 
current my father disrobed and swam the river, selected 
a place the horses could get a footing and ascend the 
river bank, and swam back to pilot sister and me across. 
We at once entered the river on our three mounts and 




JAMES W. BABB 

Dot Babb's grandfather. Born in Indiana in 1787. 

Died in Wisconsin in 1873. 



64 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

reached the farther shore, and in so doing had a severe 
struggle in which I narrowly escaped death. Father led 
sister's horse, and drawing on his experience and cool 
daring their difficulties were less and more easily overcome 
than mine. I was riding a small black bald-face two-year- 
old, and when we reached the main channel, very swift 
and heavy with swirling sand, the pony stopped swimming 
and turning somewhat on his side rather floated with the 
current. I being an expert swimmer could no doubt have 
swum ashore, but it was important that I should save 
my horse. Tightening my grip on him I floated with 
him, and finally succeeded in steering him ashore about 
two miles below the starting point. Father and sister 
landed several hundred yards down stream also, and on 
getting out and not seeing me father took to the river 
again and swam and drifted down the stream till he saw 
me resting safely on the Texas shore. Two white men on 
the Texas side quite a distance off saw our difficulties in 
the river and hastened to the river to render us what 
assistance they could; but they were too late, and m any 
case they perhaps could have helped but little if any, as 
in such an angry current to save oneself was enough 
undertaking for any man. Father thanked them and 
explained to them how mother had been slain and his 
children abducted by the Indians, and that he had just 
recovered his children and was hurrying them back to 
shelter and civilization. 

We were without food, baggage, or camp equipment, 
and in our hungry drenched condition the next move was 
a hurried one to Gainesville, Texas, a few miles distant, 
and then a small frontier hamlet. We soon arrived at 
Gainesville, and in the interim the ride in the wind and 
sun had dried out our raiment. Father very quickly 
procured an abundance of food. We partook ravenously, 
and felt much relieved and more than ever thankful that 
we had preserved our lives in the latest heroic struggle 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



65 



swimming Red river. The people of Gainesville, on 
learning who we were and our experience and ad\'entures, 
plied us with myriads of questions, which we answered 
as best we could. We were offered every conceivable 
courtesy and hospitaHty, but our chief aim was to hurry 
on, and with the least possible delay reach our kindred 
and the scene of our former home and habitation. Father 
hastily provided the necessary food, clothing and blankets 
for our further journey, and we were off for Wise county, 
the last leg of many hundreds of miles of travel that in 
point of thrilling circumstances, weird and harrowing 
scenes, and experiences of suffering and sorrow that 
could have but few parallels in the most vividly colored 
stories wrought from the imagination, aside from a painful 
reaHsm, so burned into the soul and memory that only 
time could assuage but never wholly or partially efface. 

Our first night out from Gainesville we camped on 
Elm creek, and starting early in the morning and pushing 
hard all day we arrived by nightfall at the home of a Mr. 
Boothe, twelve miles north of Decatur. There we found 
my brother, H. C. Babb, and my baby sister, who had 
been spared by the Indians. We were now about two 
miles from where we were captured by the Indians. Our 
arrival was unexpected, but the rejoicing on both sides 
beggars description. In this way the fragments of our 
once joyous and devoted family were reunited. The first 
emotions of uncontrollable gladness and rejoicing in 
clasping each other in arms of affection soon gave way to 
the realization that our beloved mother was not there, 
and that with her the only reunion vouchsafed was when 
each and all of us should answer the last summons. With 
this as our only solace we resolved to so live and die as 
to be worthy of the memory and love of that dauntless 
mother, who bravely and unflinchingly sacrificed her life 
m extending sheltering arms around her trusting helpless 
httle ones. For a short while we lived with the Boothe 



—5 



66 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

family and were then placed in the home of a Mr. John 
Thompson just south of old Bridgeport, where we re- 
mained a few weeks till our father got possession of a log 
house built by Mr. Couch on our land near the old place 
where we were captured by the Indians. 

In this log house we undertook to establish another 
home. The care of the house and children was largely 
entrusted to me. My father had exhausted his resources 
in his efforts to recover my sister and me, as the pursuit 
was a long and expensive one aside from the money and 
horses turned over to the Indians as our ransom. There- 
fore my father had to accept gainful work where he could 
find it for our maintenance, and we lived largely alone. 
The Indians were still dangerous, and at regular intervals 
continued their depredations upon the frontier settlers. 
To suppress such and protect the Texas frontier the 
United States government began the erection of a fort at 
Buffalo Springs, Clay county, Texas. My father was 
engaged on this work, and to this place we removed with 
the family of Mr. John White. The war department 



My father moved to Wise Co. in 1859. I was then 10 years 

°^^Mr. J. S. Babb was one of our neighbors, and we lived as 

neighbors until after the Civil War. (^^„^;^r- 

And after the war the Indians were troublesome on the frontier 

and in the fall of they went to the home of Mr. J. b. Babb 

lid murdered Mrs. Babb and left Margie, infant, in the house 
andToorffot, Bankuella, and a widow lady by the name of 
Roberts with them and kept them for several months. At the 
time of the killing of Mrs. Babb, Mr. Babb and his son H. C, 
wSe on their road to Arkansas with a bunch of cattle and horses 

^°'" When Mr. Babb returned to this Co. he found his wife killed, 
his home destroyed and his children carried off by the savages. 

HeTeft H C. at my father's home and started to Ft. Sill, where 
he found his children living with the Indians. T^-^r,o 

He succeeded in getting his children away from the Indians 
and brought them bick to Wise Co., where they lived several 

^^ Dot soon became a man and married Miss Pattie Graham, and 
moved West, and is now living at AmariUo. ^^^^^ Booth. 



In the Bosom of the Comaj 



NCHES 67 




RUFUS BOOTH 



58 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

decided that the army post should be further out and 
abandoned the project at Buffalo Springs. Instead they 
estabhshed Fort Richardson at Jacksboro, Texas, and we 
moved thither. Father continued in the service of the 
government for some months and I and the children kept 
house for him. We had a few cattle scattered over the 
ran-e and looked after by my brother, who worked for the 
Earharts. In the spring of 1868 father arranged with 
George Stephens, who lived near Decatur, to take my 
sisters into his home, and that released me to engage m 
work for myself. 

I began work with my brother and Baus Baker, and 
shortly thereafter we commenced gathering cattle for a 
drive to Kansas markets. As the cattle were gathered 
they were driven to and held herded on Hog Eye prairie 
in Jack county. Here we accumulated many cattle and 
moved them to a range below Decatur, and held them 
there until completion of the herd. Assisted by Jim Hall 
the cattle were kept together and guarded by alternate 
watches day and night. We now had assembled ready for 
the trail some thirty-five hundred cattle, consisting of 
cows, calves, yearlings, and steers from two to twelve 
years old. This was a miscellaneous assortment of long- 
horn cattle. Some of the older steers had such long and 
wide spreading antlers that they were frightful to behold, 
and in this day of short-horn cattle they would be a 
drawing card in a museum. The herd belonged to five 
different owners, Jip Earhart, Wit Adair, Jim Hardm, 
Baus Baker and Joe Henry Martin. With the five owners 
and Lansing Hunt, Jim Hall, Booze Earhart, Bud and 
Jim Ham, Jim and Ben Fowler, and Cook Brazelton, we 
started on the trail to Kansas early in the summer. We 
crossed Red river northwest of Gainesville, and as usual 
at that season Red river was up and we were all day 
swimming the cattle over. Our wagon loaded with 
supphes and baggage was drawn by oxen, as was usual 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 69 

in those days, and after getting the herd safely over the 
river the next big task was to get the wagon and oxen 
across. We procured some dead cottonwood logs and 
tied them under the wagon hub on each side so that the 
whole outfit would float like cork. We hitched the oxen 
to the end of the wagon tongue with a long chain. Two 
of us took positions on opposite sides of the oxen so as to 
point them across the river, and others got into the wagon 
to weight it down, and in this fashion the craft and the 
crew consisting of oxen and men were launched for the 
crossing. The oxen swam bravely and kept the course 
pointed by the two pilots, the logs and wagon floated 
serenely, and everything pointed to success, until we 




GEO. STEPHENS, Decatur, Texas 



70 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



reached the opposite bank of the river where we had to 
untie the logs to disembark the wagon. In this operation 
there was some blundering work, and the wagon sank to 
the bottom in deep water. The water was so deep and 
swift that we had to wait until the next day for some 
abatement of the river that we might unload and then 
rescue the wagon, which we did and soon proceeded to 
take up the trail again. We traveled what was known as 
the Shawnee trail, and had but Httle more trouble till we 
reached Arkansas river. Before it was possible to reach 
Kan'^as we had frost, and had to go into winter quarters 
on Rock creek. There being only a settler every here and 
there, we had plenty of open country and hired settlers 
to winter the cattle on prairie hay. 

In the meantime Joe Henry Martin had moved to 
Kansas on the White Water near Augusta, and the Adairs 
and Earharts had moved to Eureka, Kansas. As soon as 
the cattle were dehvered to the settlers to winter I started 
across the countrv from Eureka to Augusta. There were 
not a dozen families along the entire route I traveled. I 
was in rain and snow the entire day's journey. I did not 
get through to Augusta the first day. I followed the 
course of the streams on which the straggUng settlers 
resided. The homes consisted of dugouts, hay houses, 
lo- cabins and other such make-shifts. As night ap- 
proached I applied at each house for lodging and not- 
withstanding the sleet and snow I was turned away by 
first one and then the other, each one saying I would be 
welcome at the next cabin. In this way I kept gomg till 
darkness was closing in, and here I found another cabin 
I made known mv desire to stay over night, and received 
the same old answer that they did not have room but 
that I would find a house across the creek kept by two 
men who would be deHghted to have me. I explamed 
my predicament and how I had been treated. Being near 
desperation I said, "I'll go no further, but right here 111 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 71 

put up for the night." Again my prospective host ob- 
jected, saying this time that he had no horse feed. I 
pointed to a big hay stack near by, and, saying my horse 
could eat hay, I dismounted. My grim determination 
overcame him, and he took my horse to feed him and 
directed me to go into the cabin. This I did, and thence- 
forward was never treated more cordially by anyone than 
by this man and his good wife. I found my right foot 
partially frozen, and accordingly the wife kept back the 
biscuit from the stove oven that I might use that space 
and heat to thaw out my foot and remove the boot, a 
most painful operation. With homely remedies I saved 
my foot and was able to walk the next day, and also to 
get the boot on by leaving off the sock. The next morning 
I resumed my journey to Augusta, which consisted of one 
store buildmg conducted by Dr. Stewart. The upper 
story of this building was used for the neighborhocd 
school. Joe Henry Martin lived about one mile west of 
Augusta, and with him I established myself for the winter. 
With the coming of spring and grass I went to Eureka, 
got a yoke of oxen, and drove them to Lawrence, Kansas, 
where the herd had been collected from the various 
sections in which the cattle had been wintered. There 
were now fifteen hundred head of Texas steers from four 
to twelve years old that we had driven from Texas the 
year before. These steers belonged to Baus Baker and 
were driven on through Kansas to Lee Summit, Missouri, 
by Reece Barton and me after we had herded them until 
they had fattened on the grass. In driving through 
Kansas we had much stubborn opposition. The Kansas 
settlers were afraid of Texas fever in cattle, but it was 
understood that Texas cattle wintered in Kansas were 
safe and were permissible. Our greatest difficulty was 
in convincing the Kansans we had wintered the herd in 
Kansas. Now and then they would meet us ten and 
twenty strong with shot guns, bull dogs, and other devices 



72 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

of destruction, but being from Texas with the terror of 
Texas cowbovs we bluffed them with our old cap-and-ball 
six-shooters and moved right along to our destmation 
without a scratch. We shipped about half the herd from 
Lee Summit to St. Louis, and here we fell in with a man 
bv name of Charley Dunlap, a Mexican reared m Texas, 
who had four hundred Texas steers. We consolidated the 
remainder of our steers with Dunlap's, and drove over- 
land to Kansas City and from there shipped to St. Louis 
via the North Missouri railroad. I went to St. Louis with 
Mr Baker, the owner of our cattle. In Kansas City we 
put up at the State Line hotel, where we remamed three 
or four davs while getting the cattle shipped. We held 
our cattle in the valley between the mouth of Turkey 
creek and Kansas City along the Kaw river. Wyandotte 
was located on the hill just across the Kaw nver from 
Kansas Citv At that time there was neither hve stock 
exchange, nor stock yards, there being merely shipping 
pens As before stated we shipped the cattle over the 
North Missouri railroad and crossed the Missouri river on 
the bridge. On reaching St. Charles, Missouri, we crossed 
back, this time on ferry boats, four cars of cattle at a 
time Our cattle were unloaded in the North Missouri 
Stock Yards, and then driven on foot up town to the sale 
vards At that time in St. Louis there were only the 
North Missouri and Pacific Stock Yards. I assisted the 
boys in driving cattle from both yards up to the city. 
There was no bridge over the Mississippi at St. Louis at 
that time, but they had just started work on the first 
bridge. The cattle were ferried over the river, some loose 
in the boats and others in the cars rolled on to the boats. 
East St. Louis was then a small village. I remained m 
St Louis about two weeks, and had a fine tmie assistmg 
the boys handle cattle. I was supphed with a good horse, 
but my saddle was what the cowboys called a human 
saddle, which was next thing to being bare-back. I also 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 73 




An Ex-Warrior and His Family. 



74 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

had fine sport rowing, canoeing, and swimming in the 
Mississippi river, and did not want to leave. 

Mr. Baker, my boss, said the time had come for us to 
depart, and we did so by way of Kansas City where we 
joined our outfit for the return trip to Texas, the greatest 
state the sun ever shone upon. Reunited with our outfit 
we started for Texas. All in the party were Texans except 
Reece Barton. In the party were Bans Baker, Jim and 
Charley Burton, Nigger Cap, myself, and six or eight 
others We crossed Kansas and what was then known as 
Indian Nation. We came by Parsons, Kansas at which 
point there was then only one merchandise store. Ihe 
return journey was most deUghtful and at times exciting, 
as game big and small abounded in indescribable plen y 
on every hand and everywhere, to say nothing of fish m 
every stream. We traveled in a leisurely fashion, and 
empioved our time shooting and feasting on the choicest 
game of all the land. This, coupled with the wild solitudes 
of the vast untenanted region we traversed, made the tnp 
one never to be forgotten. At length we reached Red 
river, the Texas boundary, and crossed into Texas at 
Colbert's ferrv, north of Sherman. After landmg m Texas 
we started for Decatur, touching at Sherman Denton 
and Pilot Point. Upon arriving at Decatur I took my 
two sisters and estabUshed a home for them and me. My 
father having lost everything at the hands of the Indians 
^d work on the outside wherever available for the needful 
support of my sisters, and could therefore be ^t home 
with them but Httle. In this way we lived for about two 
years, when father decided to take my sisters to relatives 

in Wisconsin. ^ i. a 

Thus I was once more given my liberty to set out and 
do for myself. My brother, H. C. Babb, was working 
with cattle on the range for Dan Waggoner. I jom.ed my 
brother in this work in 1870. In 1871 Joe Lovn.g made 
a deal with Mr. Waggoner to take charge and ha.ale the 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



75 



cattle for a period of five years on the shares. I was 
engaged by Mr. Loving, and continued with the outfit 
We had considerable trouble with the Indians, who would 
break^m now and then and steal our horses. In the fall 
of 1871 Joe Loving took me and two more hands and 
jommg Frank Mull of Parker countv with four hands 
whose names were John and Henry Strickland, Dave and 
Mat Loftin, together with pack horses and four extra 
saddle horses each, we started for a round-up of Jack and 
Palo Pmto counties. We gathered all the big earlv calves 
we could find that were not marked or branded. We took 
m the mothers of some of the calves and some we did not 
When we did not want the mother cows we cut them 
back, and if they returned we shot them in the nose or 




Comanche Medicine Man and Tepee. 



76 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

punched then.. In this n,anner -^^^^tf^^Z 
hundred "mavericks," and drove them to the ranch 
me county, where we mariced and branded them 
Ittinron the marks and brands of Mr Waggoner and 
'm Mull. Having finished th.s job Joe « °* ^f 
outfit and went m below Decatur and brought back all ot 
the big calves he could see or get regardless of who owned 
hem ' Very soon the citizens discovered *eu calves -^ 
gone and learned who had g°"«\*em, and so an ry 
were they that there was talk of mobbmg Mi. Waggoner, 
Tho knew nothing whatever of this steaUng of ca tie 
Mr Waggoner inLediately bought out the mterest o 
J e « and made just and satisfactory sett^men 
with the rightful owners of the stolen cattle «>, J^J °^ 
digression I should say that in the early days of the cattle 
industry unbranded cattle belonged to the outfits who 
coXet to them first and then have the „.eans m the 
wav of enough fighting men to hold -^<1 /eep tta- Ato 
such a fashion many of the g^-' ^erds and formnes 
cattle were started and reinforced from time to time 

In 1872 Mr. Waggoner decided to move h- cat Ue to 
the far west and this he did by driving to Clay and Wichita 
ountLIaM locating there. I went with *e se-d h^^^^^ 
and we arrived at Big Wichita n™r ,us betow *« Pres^n* 
citv ot Wichita Falls, October 10th, 1872. I remainea 
:*^h the cattle the winter that followed -d w- -si ^^^^ 
hv nv brother H. C. Babb, and cousin Tom Babb ^^am 
S.r:*;jim Barrenton, haU-breed Ch^^ee Indiam 
During the winter the cattle gave us bu ittle ^°^ble as 
grass and water were everywhere plentiful. T^e ^as 
fiot then a wire fence between Red 5"«^"f ^^jf^^^^^j^ 
Mexico. Will and Lish Ikard came m with a ^"""^ 
of cattle just below us that wmter. J™ ^ur^^^^^™ 
brought some cattle the same wmter, which he 'oeated n 
the forks of Wichita and Red rivers not far from us. In 
he spring of 187,3 Waggoner brought up another herd 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 77 

and about the first of April we commenced to gather a 
herd to be driven to Kansas. When they were gathered 
on the south side of Wichita river and in readiness for the 
start, it began raining and rained hard for two days. We 
waited for the rain to subside, but on April 9th the rain 
turned into a heavy snow which continued till the fall of 
snow reached ten inches. We therefore turned the herd 
loose and when we overtook them the next day we had 
to travel thirty miles. This will indicate how swiftly 
cattle drift with a snow storm. We were four days getting 
the cattle back and ready for another start. We lost some 
ten horses frozen to death in the snow, and in recovering 
our cattle we came in contact with about twenty men 
who had run up from the south to see if we had stolen any 
of their cattle. They had their trouble for nothing as we 
had no cattle but our own. 

We were again ready to start for Kansas on April 
14th, and that night the Indians stole all the horses we 
did not have tied up. On the morning of the 15th very 
early old Nigger Samy Kirby and I were out to ride 
around the cattle when we met four or five hundred steers 
running from towards Red river. These steers belonged 
to Will and Lish Ikard who had also started to Kansas, 
when the Indians the night before had raided them, taking 
all their loose horses and a few that were together out on 
the grass with saddles on them. So being unhorsed and 
in a bad plight both outfits had to halt and go to Wise 
and Parker counties for a recruit in horses before it was 
possible to start the herds. We were only 45 miles from 
Fort Sill, Indian Territory, where the United States 
government had a large army post for supposed protec- 
tion of keeping the Indians under control, and this will 
denote how well they succeeded. We soon saw we would 
have to provide our own protection and look sharply out 
for our scalps, or lose them, as others had done. About 
this time the Indians on a raid killed and scalped a man 



78 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



by name of Alison, on Pond creek between the present 
cities of Wichita Falls and Iowa Park in Wichita county. 
On the same raid they chased Ed Terret, who outran 
them and escaped to Missouri, where he would have to 
be shown in the future. These men were workmg for 
Glen Halsell at time of the raid. 

In the summer of 1873 Pat Kemp, Harry Green, Tom 
Flannerv and I had charge of and guarded the cattle just 
north of the Wichita river. Many days we had to swim 
the river, which we enjoyed very much. Every day was 
brimful of excitement of one Idnd or another. If nothmg 
else pressed, we chased and shot down buffalo, antelope, 
deer, and turkey. The prairies and plateaus were literally 
swarming with the big game, while the valleys and wooded 
mar-ins^ of the streams were swarmmg with turkeys, 
chickens, and quail. The turkeys were so plentiful as to 
afford us an abundance of fresh eggs whenever we wanted 
them to eat. No such abundance of game had been found 
in any known locality, and we killed not only for food 
but pastime. In the fall Pat Kemp left us and weiit to 
south Texas, and in the mnter Bill Graham took his 
place. Harry Green went to work for the Ikards and 
Timmie Roberts took his place, and in the winter of 1873 
Jimmie Roberts, Tom Flannery, Bill Graham, and I 
looked after the cattle and kept them together. 

Aside from other thrilling experiences there was now 
and then a tragedy interspersed which added zest and 
varietv to the arduous as well as hazardous lives we lived 
in those times of stress and peril. I recall one tragedy in 
particular as having features partaking of both the 
pathetic and comic. In April 1873, Mr. Dan Waggoner 
came up to the ranch from Decatur to look over the 
cattle and conditions generally. He traveled m a buggy 
accompanied by Col. Booth and a very small "lan ^^^^^^ 
name I have forgotten. Mr. Waggoner as usual had his 
old shot gun with him. While Mr. Waggoner, Booth and 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 79 




JIMMIE ROBERTS 



foreman. SSi„"|Tw/"er"f/MT'Rl''erts 1^"=!^^^^' '""' 

cL«r1» w ^ " P^'Pf^rous citizen of both Texas and Western 
^endable men who^LTeT.a'r^e.'alL'J-^n^i^lf.'S t^'wlfi 



80 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

their companion were away from camp loolciag over the 
cat te loe Scamkaskey, the Dutch cook, and Jack Scott 
e^gag'ei in an angry quarrel over a saddle. -k aPpl ed 
an unmentionable ep.thet to Joe, f ° ^^^ ers and 
fi,ht. jack then drew u™ cap.nd-b U ...rooters ^ ^^ 

:.:rr'aZ :hiTiw:;sUy." joe backed away 

the en 'with Waggoner's shotgun and sa.d, "Take back 
the tent witn S» „ j j^ ^tj^^ed to draw his 

your abuse o me Shacl. J ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ 

:rSr nd^ ela"; tore o« Jack's coat sleeve and 
t^. the .ound^--- f -! -r el": 
r":n'TorTsirdtot randing near. Jack was 

abandoned the horse an ^.^^^^ .^^ ^^^^ _^j^^^_ 

ltre;er';tt ~ally the Dutchman distanced 
Tack a'ndgo back to the shotgun, picking ,t up ,^tj 
tS aoproached. With shotgun in hand, Joe said. Stop, 
Shack Tdon't want to kill you." Jack, i-^ead °f ;t°p- 
Ll!\'elcled his pistol, which failed - fir. As he d.d^so 

^p^c^f j" dtrrrrhf :™, "- which he sank 
rpr fhi ground, holding a cock^d -olv. m eac^^^^^^^^^^ 
I said, "Jack, are you hu t? and h« Y g ^^^^^ 

"The Dutch hyena has killed me. inisuou^i 
ten o'clo k in the morning. In the afternoon we rolled 

lack's emains into a blanket, and buried them m a slough 
Jack s rema .^^ p^jj^ ^^^^, ^.j^n^s. 

''"ul c::r T. C. Babb, and I found Jack Scott in the 
win^J 71872 near where the city of Henrietta now is. 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 81 

He wore Indian moccasins and good clothes, being without 
gun or pistol and afoot. We took him to our camp where 
he remained until he was killed. He helped around the 
camp and seemed a man who had been well reared. He 
had varied accomplishments, among which was that of 
the buck dancer. My cousin was a fiddler, and many- 
dreary hours in this isolated camp life in the wilderness 
were passed with the dancing of Jack to the music of my 
cousin's fiddle. Jack was about thirty years old, and 
said he was from Kansas. He may have had a mother 
and father, brothers and sisters, who looked for his return 
in vain, and who never knew of his fate, and his last 
lonely resting place in nature's wildest solitude. 

During these times we had frequent encounters and 
narrow escapes from the Indians, and so evident was the 
peril that it was difficult to keep a sufficient number of 
men on the ranch. However, Jimmie Roberts, Tom 
Flannery, Nigger Cap, Lem Fowler, and I remained on 
the job; and at times when others would not, regardless 
of pay or pleading. 

As a digression, and also as illustrative of the wildness 
and remoteness of this extreme frontier of civilization, 
and the protecting arm of an organized government, I 
shall relate an mcident in which a fellow employee named 
Pat Kemp figured with me. In the spring of 1873 Pat 
and I were not closely occupied, and decided we would 
travel about, learning more of our unknown surroundings. 
One day our explorations carried us up Red river, and at 
the mouth of China creek we were taking in a large scope 
of country with our field glasses when we discovered a 
company of United States soldiers in camp at Fort Augur 
across Red river, on the Indian Territory side. Acting 
on the impulse we proceeded to cross the river and pay 
them a visit. As soon as the soldiers saw us approaching 
from the distance, the bugle was sounded and some 
eighty cavalr\Tnen put out in our direction, meeting us 

6— 



82 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

in about one mile from the fort, whither they escorted us. 
We had our noon-day meal with the soldiers, and early in 
the afternoon we remarked the time had come for us to 
return to our ranch duties on the Texas side. The captain 
inquired, "Whose ranch, and how far distant?" We ex- 
plained the ranch belonged to Dan Waggoner and was 
located on the Big Wichita river, some twenty-five miles 
away. The captain said that there could be no such 
ranch or he would have known of it, and directed us to 
remain and go under guard the following day to Fort Sill. 
I inquired w^hy we should be detained and sent to Fort 
Sill, and his answer was that we could then give an account 
of ourselves and establish whether or not we were Indian 
spies. I replied that we were not Indian spies, though 
we saw Indians most every day and did our best to keep 
away from and out of sight of them. I further emphasized 
that we were nothing more or less than ranch hands, and 
urged that we be released to return to the cattle under 
our care and protection. The captain ordered us to re- 
main till next morning, which of course we had to do, and 
when the morning had come the captain announced his 
decision to send us to Fort Sill. I said, "Captain, we 
will obey vour orders, but we wish you to send us by the 
ranch headquarters, so we can explain our abscence from 
the ranch, otherwise there would be apprehension that 
we had been slain by the Indians, and no little search 
made for us by rescuing parties, composed of our co- 
workers on the ranch." The captain said bluntly, "There 
is no ranch, and consequently no one to notify, and I'll 
therefore send you directly to Fort Sill." I protested, 
and disavowed our being Hars, and at this juncture Pat 

Kemp said, "Captain, you are a d d liar, if you say 

there is no ranch over there, as we have stated," and the 
captain stated that a "Httle stay in the guard house will 
do you good, young fellow." 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



83 




3 






a, 



3 



84 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

I undertook to smooth matters, and proposed that we 
be sent to the divide, where our log ranch house could 
be seen through the field glass, just as we had discovered 
the fort. The captain agreed to this, but warned us 
beforehand that if the ranch house failed to show up our 
punishment would be severe. We were impatient, and 
said, "All right, let's be going, and before starting give 
back to us our guns." The captain handed us our guns, 
but kept our ammunition, saying that if we had stated 
the truth as to the ranch house he would deliver the 
ammunition as he had released us. Pat says, "Captain, 
if we meet or see any Indians will you give us our car- 
tridges?" "I guess so," answered the captain, and Pat 
said, "If you don't, we will outrun the Indians, as we have 
done before." The captain being interested, said. "Did 
you ever outrun the Indians." And Pat declared that had 
the captain witnessed the race he would surely have 
decided in our favor. Pat said further, "One time Babb 
and I were together, and Babb was mounted on a good 
fast horse, and I on an old slow stud pony, and I said, 
'Babb, don't run off and leave me,' and Babb answered, 
'I won't,' and he did not either, and by holding our 
ground we stood off sixty Indians, and did not have to 
kill them to do it." Under escort of forty soldiers we put 
out in direction of the ranch, and when we reached the 
divide about sixteen miles from the ranch, we showed 
them the old cottonwood log ranch house covered with 
dirt, in plain view to all, and the officer in charge said he 
was convinced. Upon his handing us our cartridges, we 
bade the soldiers farewell, and in a brisk gallop made our 
way to the ranch headquarters, where we were warmly 
received by our associates. They were gratified that we 
were unharmed and back with them for the work, and 
the added defense against the Indians. 

As Fort Augur was one of the earlier outposts during 
the stirring Indian days, a brief description of it should 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 85 

prove both instructive and interesting. This fort oc- 
cupied an eminence on the north side of Red river, just 
below the mouth of Augur creek. The fort was sur- 
rounded by entrenchments about six feet each in depth 
and width, with the dirt thrown up high on the outside 
for breastworks. From the fort a trench some six feet 
deep led down the hill to a big running spring, from which 
the water supply was derived. This trench was to pre- 
vent being cut off from water in case of a siege or a long 
sustained attack by the Indians. Outside of the fort and 
all around it were holes some five feet deep and four feet 
square, further protected with poles about four feet high. 
In these holes soldiers did picket duty for the fort. The 
soldiers were taking no chances of being surprised and 
scalped b}' the Indians, whereas we cowboys rode the 
ranges either singly or in groups of two or three and fre- 
quently slept out of nights, with neither shelter nor pro- 
tection, and no bedding except the blanket alwa^^s carried 
attached to the saddle. Of course all this was attended 
by great danger, but being a part of the game we could 
not and did not falter. We were always prepared and 
ready to fight, as we did do frequently, with hair-breadth 
escapes. It is astonishing how one can become so accus- 
tomed to peril as to go right along, perfectly resigned to 
any fate or eventuality. The Indians had a far more 
wholesome fear and dread of a few cowboys than of many 
regiments of soldiers. 

The hardy Celt, Pat Kemp, who for so long a time 
was my constant companion, was wholly insensible to 
fear and danger, and our very recklessness and dare- 
devil methods awed and intimidated the Indians and 
more than once saved our lives. Pat and I were one day 
further exploring the beauties and \vilds of Red river 
\^alley when to our utter surprise we beheld a small peach 
orchard, with trees heavily laden with luscious ripe 
peaches. This was in July of 1873, and the orchard was 



86 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

situated a few miles north of the present city of Wichita 
Falls. At first we could scarcely believe our eyes, not 
being able to realize the possibility of a peach orchard 
beyond the boundaries of all civilized human habitation. 
We partook of the peaches and were convinced, and a 
rarer and greater treat was never enjoyed. We explored 
a little more and found an abandoned log hut overlooking 
Red river, which hut no doubt still stands intact. We 
afterwards learned that a venturcscme man by the name 
of Gilbert undertook to establish a home at this place. 
After living there two or three years undisturbed he was 
discovered by the Indians and with his family barely 
escaped to the white settlem^ents in the vicinity of Gains- 
ville. 

In the spring of 1874 Clay county was organized, as 
the farthest western organized county, and Henrietta was 
established as the county seat, where a short time before 
the pioneer Cusier family was broken up by the Indians. 
Some of the members were massacred, while the others 
were carried into captivity. At Henrietta a small log 
house was erected for the sessions of the court, presided 
over by Judge Lindsay, as the first judge, and with L. C. 
Barrett, now of Amarillo, as one of the first practising 
attorneys at the Henrietta bar. It happened that I was 
one of the first jury to serve, and then also had my first 
jury service. There was no felony docket the first session, 
the term of the court being engaged in misdemeanor cases 
solely. We members of the jury gave verdicts of guilty 
for all with minimum fines in each case. For jury service 
in this first session of the court, now more than thirty- 
eight years ago, I have not drawn my scrip, which, with 
interest compounded, would to-day make a comfortable 
sum, if collected. 

A great deal has been said and written with reference 
to the methods employed by the old-time or original 
cow-men in accumulating and increasing their herds. I 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 87 

am in position to speak with authority on this subject, 
and would say they were naturally as honest as the 
average of men. They were creatures of environment 
and proceeded along customary lines, as men have always 
done before or since. It was the custom to take dry cows 
and strays, also mavericks, which were cattle that may 
have been marked but unbranded. The idea or plan was 
to take in and properly mark and brand and appropriate 
such cattle before the real cattle thief could do the same 
thing. At that time there was no law against stealing 
cattle, but there was an unwritten law that was severe 
enough when the thief was actually caught in the very 
act of stealing the cattle. Especially rigorous was this 
law when invoked or applied in case of the professional or 
weaker thief, who paid the penalty dangling at the end 
of a rope over a limb of a tree, or was doubled up by the 
ball of a Winchester or revolver. As best I can recall, in 
August of 1874 was the last Indian raid with fatal results. 
This raid was through Montague and Wise counties, and 
being taken unawares, the entire Huff family was killed 
by the Indians. At that time I was still on the ranch in 
Wichita county. 

In the fall of 1874 I discontinued the work on the ranch, 
and returned to Wise county. There were then but three 
families residing between Wichita and Wise counties, a 
distance of eighty or ninety miles. At first I did not seem 
to fit in just right in a community of civilized people, but 
gradually I learned to adapt myself to the prevaihng 
conditions, and being susceptible to the charms of the 
girls I met I became more than reconciled. To be sure, 
there were not many girls, as there were not many fam- 
ilies, but there were enough to interest and engage me, 
and above all, one in particular, to whom I addressed 
unwavering and ever increasing attention. On October 7, 
1875, I was married to Miss Pattie Graham, the seventeen 



88 



In the Bosom of the Comancfes 



year old daughter of Mrs. M. A. Graham, at old Bridge- 
port, Wise county, Texas. 

My wife's mother was a native Texan, and was 
married in Red River county, Texas, before the Mexican 
war. Her mother was Mrs. Isabella Gordon, better 




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Mrs. T. A. (Dot) Babb was born December 31st, 1858, and is 
descended from that sturdy pioneer stock from whom Texas and 
all other states of this union derived the elements of strength 
and greatness. Reference is made in another place in this nar- 
rative to Aunt I bbie Gordon, Mrs. Babb's paternal grandmoth er, 



In the Bosom of the Comanxhes 89 




MRS T. A. (Dot) BABB 

a very notable and illustrious woman of the trying and strenuous 
early days of Texas. Another conspicuous ancestor is John 
Hanks, the maternal grandfather of Mrs. Babb. An heirloom 
very highly treasured by Mrs. Babb is herein reproduced in the 
form of a Commission of Justice of the Peace of the township of 
Sevier, Miller County, Arkansas, issued by Governor Crittenden, 
Territorial Governor of Arkansas, at Little Rock, Oct. 21st, 1824. 
Thus it can be seen 88 years ago Mrs. Babb's forebears were 
serving their country with credit and fortitude on the border 
line of an ever broadening west. Mrs. Babb at 54 is remarkably 
well preserved and true to the inherent spirit of heredity is ever 
on the alert for the best channels for the exercise and direction 
of her energies, looking to the betterment of mankind and a 
higher and stabler civilization generally. 



90 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

known as Aunt Ibbie Gordon, and came to Texas with 
her father in 1823, being then eighteen years of age. So 
distinguished was Aunt Ibbie Gordon, my wife's maternal 
grandmother, in the early annals of Texas, that I deem it 
entirely appropriate to reproduce a part of the biograph- 
ical sketch appearing in a book now extant, entitled 
''Prominent Women of Texas," written by Mrs. EHzabeth 
Brooks, as follows: The Hopkins family came to Tex- 
as from Kentucky when that was made a free state, they 
being slave holders. Hopkins county, Texas, was 
named for L. and Dick Hopkins, uncles of my 
mother. They settled on a small creek in what 
is now Bowie county, the extreme northeastern 
portion of the state, and in the following year the 
daughter married John Hanks, and the couple 
moved to Jonesboro, then an important trading post on 
the southern bank of Red river, and on the main line of 
travel on the western frontier. There the husband died 
three years later, leaving one daughter as the issue of the 
marriage, this daughter being the mother of my wife, Mrs. 
Babb, and the young widow went back to her father's 
house. Two years afterwards she married Captain Jim 
Clark, a native of Tennessee, with whom she returned to 
the former domicile in Jonesboro, where they continued 
to abide pending the preparation of a new home further 
west. It was while living there that the war for Texas 
independence began to be waged, and it was there on the 
highway of travel that recruits from the northeast tarried 
in their passage to the scenes of conflict. Their zeal added 
fuel to Mrs. Clark's patriotism, and her patriotism gave 
aid to their cause. It was there that in 1832 one of the 
illustrious men of Texas history first set foot on Texas 
soil. This was Sam Houston, American by birth and 
instinct, once a congressman and governor of Tenessee, 
and already famous as warrior, statesman and politician. 
He was commissioned by Andrew Jackson to negotiate 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 91 

trades with the Indian tribes of the southwest, and was on 
his way to hold conferences with their chiefs. To reach 
the scene of his conference he followed the trail that led 
to the Indian Territory, and came to the northern bank of 
the Red river, opposite which stood the trading post of 
Jonesboro. He there fell in with Ben Milam, the future 




MRS. GRAHAM, Mother cf Mrs. Dot Babb 



92 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

hero of Goliad and San Antonio, of whom he inquired the 
probabiHties of finding something to eat. Milam told 
him that he himself was the guest of the family living on 
the other bank, and that accommodations could no doubt 
be had there. They accordingly crossed the river to- 
gether, and, entering the only house on the southern bank, 
were welcomed by Milam's hostess. Aunt Ibbie Gordon of 
our narrative. In relating the sequel of this meeting, she 
says that with her own hands she cooked the first food 
that Sam Houston ever ate in Texas, and that her house 
was the first in Texas to shelter the future president of 
the great republic. Our distinguished guest tarried but 
^1 a day, and resumed his southward trail to Nacogdoches, 
in those days the Mecca of all western enterprise. His 
visit, though brief, was long enough to make an impression 
on his admiring hostess, who described him as handsome, 
courteous, intelligent, and most fascinating in manner and 
conversation. Two years after this episode Mrs. Clark 
removed with her husband to their new home, in what is 
now Red River county, and on the site where is situated 
the present flourishing town of Clarksville. They then 
laid its foundation, and began to erect that which cul- 
minated in its present importance. It was in 1835, the 
year following their removal, that Mrs. Clark met another 
of the heroes that are famous in Texas history. This was 
David Crockett, who gave up his life in the bloody siege 
of the Alamo. He was following the usual trail on his 
way to the headquarters of the Texan army. She heard 
of his approach and resolved on giving him the welcome 
she had extended to the many patriots who had passed 
that way before him, but having removed to Clarksville, 
somewhat off the main line of travel, she knew she covld 
not see him unless she intercepted him in the course of 
his route. This she determined to do, and after a horse- 
back ride of a few miles brought up at the home of a 
settler, where she found the object of her eager pursuit. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 93 

A few words served to introduce those earnest advocates 
of a common cause, and a mutual hatred of oppression 
soon gave to each a knowledge of the glowing patriotism 
that burned in the bosom of the other. After a few hours 
of mutual solace and encouragement they parted, he for 
the field of his exploits, and she for the home where dwelt 
the brightest spirit of Texas independence. This home 
was saddened not many months afterwards by the fate 
that befell the brave Crockett, and only three years later 
it was made desolate by the death of Captain Clark. In 
the year following this second bereavement Mrs. Clark 
was married to Dr. George Gordon, who died in 




GRANDMA IBBIE GORDON, Grandmother of Mrs. Doc Babb 



94 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

1872, after a happy married life of thirty-three years, 
during which he and his wife lived in her old Clarksville 
domicile. There in the house she entered sixty years 
before, Aunt Ibbie Gordon lived to reach the patriarchal 
age of ninety, not seared but only mellowed by time, 
bright in mind, cheerful in spirits, and, prior to her last 
illness in 1895, sound in body and rejoicing in the rever- 
ence and affection of all who lived around her. Her life 
had moreover been blessed by several sons, whose honor- 
able lives reflected the virtues of their venerable mother, 
and brought to her declining years the peace that only a 
mother's heart can feel." 

My wife's mother, Mrs. Graham, died some five years 
ago at the home of her sons, W. H. and G. G. Graham, in 
Artesia, New Mexico. Mrs. Babb and I lived in Wise 
county on Dry Creek until the summer of 1879, when we 
moved to Wichita Falls, Texas. On our arrival there we 
found only three families making their home at that point. 
These families were those of Judge Barwise, Judge Sealy, 
and Mort Wattenburger. In the fall of 1879 Mr. J. H. 
Harris settled with his family in Wichita Falls. At that 
time the total number of families living in Wichita county 
perhaps did not exceed fifteen. Our union was blessed 
with six children, three of whom being bom in Wise 
county and three in Wichita Falls. We had the mis- 
fortune to lose four children, all of them being buried at 
Wichita Falls. Only two of our children survived, Tom 
and Annie, both of whom are now grown, married, and 
making substantial headway in life. I engaged to D. 
Waggoner & Son for work on their ranches, and could 
only be at home sometimes once a week and other times 
once a month, as my duties kept me out on the ranges, 
looking after the cattle, and far removed from home. This 
worked an especial hardship on my wife, who had to live 
alone during my prolonged absence. 

By this time there were ranches established here and 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



95 




MAXINE BABB, Granddaughter of Dot Babb. 



96 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

there all over the country, and dividing lines between the 
different ranches were agreed upon and respected by 
mutual understanding. It was necessary that cowboys 
travel these dividing lines daily to keep the cattle thrown 
back to their respective zones and prevent,, as far as pos- 
sible, the indiscriminate mixing up thereof. However, 
despite all such precautions the cattle would cross these 
lines at night, and especially in winter when they would 
drift before driving stonns. With the coming of spring, 
the cattle by the thousands would be found many miles 
from the ranches on which they belonged. It therefore 
required many men and big work to get the cattle back 
to their allotted ranges. It must be borne in mind that 
in those days there were no barb-wire fences, and it was 
owing to this fact that each big ranch had to have a small 
army of cowboys looking after their employer's interest. 
It was the custon, and a necessary one in those days, to 
have, during the spring and early summer, what was 
known as the annual "round-up." and on the occasion of 
these round-ups it was not unusul to see twenty-five to 
thirty chuck wagons, with from thirty to sixty men to the 
wagon. Seeing these large forces concentrated prepar- 
atory to entering upon the several months of round-up 
work reminded one of the vanguard of an invading army, 
and this impression was largely accentuated by the supply 
of arms and ammunition carried by the cowboy fraternity 
in those days and times. The arms consisted of such 
miscellaneous amiament as large revolvers and Win- 
chester rifles of all styles and calibres. The revolvers 
were worn strapped around the waist and the Winchesters 
were carried in holsters pendant from the saddles. In 
this way they were always prepared for battle, and when- 
ever there was combat there was fatal results to one or 
both of the combatants. The round-up work would go 
from one ranch to another until the whole country had 
been worked over thoroughly, after which all would meet 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



97 




o 



— 7 



98 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

at the starting point. Before entering upon the work the 
first step woiild be to elect a general round-up boss, who 
had supreme command of all divisions and sub-divisions 
of the army of cowboys engaged in rounding up the cattle 
from the ranges far and near. After all the cattle had 
been brought together each ranch owner, or ranch boss, 
had charge of his given bunch until the cattle were all 
concentrated in one general herd. The general boss 
would then take charge and let each outfit take its turn 
cutting out the cattle belonging to it as designated by 
marks and brands. The cattle would then be held night 
and day in the separate herds until the ownership had 
been established, even to the last hoof. I have been 
engaged on these general round-ups for six weeks to two 
months at a time, and have gathered cattle from the 
Colorado river to the North Canadian, north and south, 
and from Childress county, Texas, half way across the 
Chickasaw Nation east and west. 

We continued our residence in Wichita Falls from 
1879 until 1898, with the exception of one year spent on 
Nine-Mile creek, ten miles from Fort Sill (now in the 
State of Oklahoma). The Indians with whom I li\ed 
during captivity at length identified me at Wichita Falls, 
and from that time they urged me to remove to the Indian 
Territory. They contended that I was by captivity and 
adoption a Comanche Indian, and had as much right in 
the Territory as the rest of the tribe. At this time Captain 
Lee Hall of Texas was Indian agent at Anadarko, Indian 
Territory. Acting on the suggestion of my Indian friends, 
I went over to Anadarko and called on Captain Hall and 
said to him that he should issue me a permit to make my 
home with them. Captain Hall inquired into the history 
of my case, and found that the Indians claimed tribal 
kinship with me and were not only willing but extremely 
desirous of having me settle with my family in their 
midst. After explaining to Captain Hall my captivity 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 99 




QUANAH PARKER. Chief of the Comanches. 

Quanah Parker, a once powerful Comanche chief, and the son 
of the white woman, Cynthia Parker, who was captured when 
a girl by the Indians and taken as a wife of the distinguished 
Chief Peta Nocona, and subsequently recovered by General 
Sul Ross at the end of a battle in which General Ross slew Chief 
Nocona and most of his followers. 



Cache, Okla., Feb. 10, 1910. 
This is to certify that I know Nadinewmipe or Dot Babb. 
He was captured by the Comanche Indians a long time ago when 
he was a boy about 13 or 14 years old. He was with the Indians 
about two years, 

Quanah Parker, 
Chief of the Comanche Tribe. 



100 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

and residence with them as a boy and ther adoption of 
nie into their tribe, Captain Hall gave his consent; where- 
upon I moved my family from Wichita Falls, Texas, to 
the Indian country, and everything moved along smoothly 
until Captain Hall's removal as Indian agent. Following 
Captain Hall's retirement from his position as Indian 
agent, a special agent by the name of White was sent to 
investigate my right to settle and live with the Indians. 
Upon his submitting his report to the Indian agent, which 
report was unfavorable to me, a squad of Indian police 
were sent to me with orders to move out of the Indian 
Territory; but the Indian police advised me to disregard 
the order and remain, advising me that in doing so I 
would have their support and protection. The great old 
Indian chief, Quanah Parker, Esetye, Wild Horse, and 
several other sub-chiefs importuned me to remain, saying 
they would not suffer me and my family to be put out. 
I had about decided to continue my residence with the 
Indians; but my wife pointed out that we might be 
annoyed and that, at all events, we should return to 
civilization, where we would have necessary school ad- 
vantages for our children. With her persuasion along this 
line I consented, and we abandoned a good home we had 
erected and returned to Texas. 

We returned to our home in Wichita county, Texas, 
and lived there from 1879 until 1898, when we moved to 
Clarendon, Donley county. We resided in Clarendon 
until 1906, when we moved to Amarillo, Potter county, 
Texas, where we now reside. Knowing the Panhandle as 
I do, I am firmly convinced that Amarillo is the future 
metropolis of the great Panhandle country, and destined 
to become one of the large cities of Texas. 

A great deal has been written from time to time as to 
the inner life, domestic traits, habits and temperament of 
the Indians, concerning which there has been no little 
exaggeration. My residence and intimate relations with 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



101 



the Comanche Indians, during which time I observed 
very closely, pecuHarly qualify me to speak correctly and 
trtithfully on such subjects. In their relations with one 
another they were considerate and tolerant, and did not 
fall out, fight, and kill each other as do the white men. 
The only real fighting I ever saw among them was con- 
fined to the squaws. Occasionally a scuaw would do 




102 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

something to excite the anger of the others, when they 
would combine and give the offending squaw a terrible 
beating. Usually this had a very salutary effect, and the 
victim of the flogging would rarely, if ever, repeat the 
offense. Neither the Indian men nor squaws would whip 
or bodily punish their children. It was a recognized 
tribal custom for the men to have two, and from that to 
as many wives as they desired. There were no marriage 
ceremonies, and when a girl reached the age of fourteen 
to sixteen she was given away by the father and mother, 
unless, in exceptional cases only, an admirer would steal 
the girl, somewhat after the custom so prevalent with 
white men. Generally the men woiild be loyal to their 
wives, and their wives to them; but now and then, just 
as is the case in civilized communities, a man would find 
an "affinity" in another man's squaw and take her away 
from him. The penalty in such cases was the recognized 
right of the man losing the squaw to take all the horses 
and property of the Indian stealing the wife, until the 
victim felt that he had been fully satisfied. Under no 
circumstances did they resort- to fighting and killing over 
the loss of a squaw, which was always adjusted on a strict 
monetary or property basis. Another striking trait was 
that of the interest the several squaws belonging to one 
man took in each other's children, and in fact such 
children were as affectionately cared for as if the offspring 
of that particular squaw. In the main the squaws lived 
together in harmony. After reaching a certain age, the 
men would abandon the old squaws, and supply their 
places with younger women; and in this way the older 
and discarded squaws had the right and liberty to become 
any other man's wife that would elect to accept or adopt 
her, and the new alliance could be formed without the 
consent of the former husband. 

All the Indian subjects showed great respect and 
obedience to their chiefs and head men. During the 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 103 




104 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

summer the different chiefs would assemble the tribal 
members in their jurisdictions, and separate camps would 
be constiaicted and maintained accordingly. Such camps 
were usually pitched on the bank of some running stream 
for the convenience of both grass and water. It was also 
a custom to move these camps every eight or ten days, 
so as always to have plenty of grass near-by for their 
numerous horses. The Indians were gregarious and would 
live in towns, with their tepees arranged with the same 
precision as the streets of a city. They would set the 
tepees with the doors facing to the east. If it were cloudy 
when they put them up, resulting in some deviation from 
the right direction, this fact they would discover as soon 
as it cleared up. With the sun as a compass, they would 
then rearrange all the tepees. The day before they would 
break up and decamp for a new location, the chief would 
get on a horse and ride up and down the streets shouting 
at the top of his voice a description of the location to 
which all should move the next day. Sometimes they 
would cover twenty or thirty miles in one day, and on 
the day of break-up for the move everyone got in a great 
hurry, and more especially the squaws, who had to gather 
up all the belongings and attach them to the pack horses 
and mules. They would tie the tepee poles on each side 
of a horse or mule by one end and let the other end drag. 
These poles were from twelve to twenty feet long, and on 
such they would pile their impedimenta, until one could 
scarcely see the back of the horse or mule bearing the 
burden. The children that were too large to be carried 
on their mothers' backs and not large enough to ride 
alone were tied on some old horse which moved with the 
procession. As an improvised ambulance for the sick or 
wounded they would tie a buffalo skin from one pole to 
another and fasten one end of the poles to the pack 
saddles, the other ends dragging on the ground. While 
such locomotion seemed rough, it always answered the 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 105 




QUANAH PARKER, in Costume. 



106 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

purpose. It frequently happened in moving that some of 
the pack mules or horses would become frightened or 
stampeded, and in their fHght scatter the sundry packages 
and household plunder for miles in every direction, re- 
quiring several days to collect up the fragments and re- 
assemble the animals and their belongings. In moving 
from one district to another the men and boys would 
divide their time between chasing deer, antelope, and 
buffalo, and driving the horses. They would begin 
moving operations just as early in the morning as they 
could ; and as to who should get started first in the moving 
there was great rivalry, since the first to reach the new 
camp ground had choice of location. 

As before stated, the tepees were arranged in the order 
of streets. One of the reasons for this was that of enabling 
the warriors to parade first one street and then the other 
in their efforts to arouse and incite the Indians when a 
raid had been planned and recruits were wanted. Notably 
was this the case preparatory to getting together a com- 
pany of warriors for an incursion into Texas and New 
Mexico. The warlike and restless spirit of the Indians 
was dominant, and they could not be quiescent for any 
long period. When seized with the mania for a raid, the 
leading men would make medicine to determine when and 
where the raid should take place. After this point had 
been settled they would cover their faces with hideous 
war paint, and array themselves in their most frightful 
bonnets of feathers, spears, bows, and arrows, and in this 
shape, led by a man beating a drum, they would parade 
all the different streets. As the procession moved along 
volunteers would join as the spirit moved them. These 
parades in this fashion would continue each day with 
increasing frenzy of war whoops and hideousness of para- 
phernalia for from twenty to thirty days, such perform- 
ances ending only after the requisite number of \\'arriors 
had volunteered and enlisted for the raid in contemplation. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 107 

Unlike civilized governments, they had no compulsory 
military service, and their fighting squads were recruited 
whoUy from volunteers. I have seen and been with them 
when after a strenuous three weeks recruiting campaign 
they would be ready to start out with two hundred to 
three hundred warriors. When an Indian warrior was 
killed or slain in battle, the other warriors and squaws 
that were related to the slain made what the}^ thought to 
be expiation, by inflicting such punishment upon them- 
selves as abstaining from food and drink for a good length 
of time and cutting themselves severely with knives and 
doing other severe bodily injury to themselves. The sur- 
viving warrior comrades wordd shave the hair from the 
right side of their heads, and the squaws of the deceased 
warrior's family would sometimes cut off all their hair. 
I have seen the squaws take butcher knives and carve 
their arms and legs and also their bodies in a most frightful 
manner, and when the wounds would be partially healed 
they would reopen them so as to prolong and intensify 
their bodily suffering. In entering upon these bloody 
orgies they would take a butcher knife in one hand and a 
whet rock in the other, and after carving a while would 
sharpen the blade and carve some more. Occasionally 
this mutilation was carried to a fatal extent. I had a very 
exciting experience and also narrow escape during the 
enactment of one of these performances. I had just been 
added to the headquarters camp after my captivity on 
the Arkansas river when certain warriors had returned 
from a raid in which a number of their comrades had been 
killed, and the mother of one of the slain was so crazed 
with grief as to be bereft of her reason. I had been sent 
with some Indian girls to a running brook near by to 
bring water to the camp, and I heard horrifying shrieks 
and moans. On looking around I beheld this Indian 
squaw approaching with a large butcher knife and a whet 
rock, and the next thing I knew the infuriated woman 



108 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

made a fierce attack with murderous intent upon me. 
Being unwilling to offer myself as a voluntary sacrifice, 
I fled with great celerity, and seeing that she could not 
overtake me she halted and carved herself to pieces. It 
matters not how long I shall live, this harrowing picture 
will remain ever fresh in my memory, and during the 
intervening years, not infrequently in my dreams has the 
apparition of this frenzied and demoniacal squaw ap- 
peared unto me. 

Many years after these troublous times I had occasion 
to visit Fort Sill, the headquarters of the Indians, and 
what was then known as the Comanche and Kiowa re- 
servation; and there I renewed my acquaintanceship with 
many of the old time waniors and with them reviewed 
the thrilling scenes of the Indian raids and exploits of the 
years agone. Certain prominent Indians were missed 
from the ranks, and concerning them I made inqiiiries 
with much interest and solicitude. Notable among them 
were Pernurmey and his brother Tutchispooder. Per- 
nurme}- was the leader in the raid in which I was captured, 
and he claimed me as his son. In captivity he frequently 
stated to me that he would die before he would let the 
white people take their country away from them. In 
answer to my inquiry as to what he considered his country 
he designated the country from Fort Worth east to Red 
ri^^er and west to the Colorado river, and from this line 



Waneda Parker, the daughter of Quanah Parker, the late 
Chief of the Comanche Indians, is a young woman of striking 
appearance and of much cultivation. Her mother is a full blood 
Comanche, while her paternal grandmother was the famous 
Cynthia Ann Parker, a white woman who was taken into cap- 
tivity in girlhood, latterly to become the consort of the famous 
Comanche chief, Peta Nocona, slain in a hand to hand combat 
by that immortal hero, General Sul Ross. One of Waneda 
Parker's elder sisters was married to a Mr. Emmet Cox, a white 
man, and from this union there was a daughter who was educated 
in the best seminaries and is now an accomplished school teacher 
in the Philippine Islands. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 109 




WANEDA PARKER 
Daughter of Quanah Parker, late Chief of the Comanche Ind 



lans. 



110 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

north to the Arkansas river. At Fort Sill I learned that 
Pernurmey had made good his resolve to die in defense 
of what he considered his country, and was killed in Lost 
Valley, Texas. I was told by the surviving Indians at^ 
Fort Sill that five Indian warriors and one squaw headed 
by Pernurmey left the reservation at Fort Sill, saying they 
were going to Texas to get some more scalps of the white 
men, before laying aside the tomahawk forever. This 
was in 1873, and on the raid Ira Long, of Wise county, 
Texas, with a small company of rangers overtook them, 
killing four and wounding two. As the wounded were 
never heard of again they must have perished from their 
wounds. The Indians would relate to me their exper- 
iences in the various fights and raids that they had made 
into Texas for many years preceding. They referred to 
the time when the white men had no guns except the old 
muzzle-loading patterns, and in the attacks they made on 
the white men they would wait until the white men would 
shoot and then dash at them while they were reloading 
these guns. They described these white men as having 
very long whiskers and being exceedingly brave and expert 
marksmen. They further said the white men did not 
seem to fear the charges made by the Indians and paid 
no attention to what was going on until their guns were 
reloaded, at which juncture the Indians would have to 
get out of the way as quickly as possible, as by experience 
they could well anticipate what the results would be. 

Too much praise cannot be given the organized forces 



Cattle Ranch located near Alanreed, Texas, owned and 
operated at present time by Dot Babb, who is surrounded by a 
few of his Red Poll cattle, while his favorite horse grazes in the 
background. A never lailing creek runs near by with numerous 
springs affording abundant stock water, fine fishing, and duck 
shooting. This splendid ranch consists of several sections rich 
grazing and agricultural lands. Stock raising and stock farming 
are the leading features of this picturesque and generally most 
excellent ranch. 



In the Bosom of the Comanxhes 



111 




112 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

of rangers and minute men maintained by the several 
frontier counties for the effective defense and protection 
afforded the widely scattered citizens and settlements in 
the trying Indian days. It can also be said that great 
credit is due the hardy courageous cowboys that worked 
in conjunction with the rangers in repelling the Indians 
from time to time and pursuing and driving them out of 
the limits of the settlements. These forces did much 
more to safeguard the lives and property of the citizens 
of the frontier than all of the United States soldiers 
combined. The custom of the Indians oftentimes was to 
divide into small groups or raiding parties, and in this 
manner they would elude the United States troops, who 
were better adapted to attacking the Indians in larger 
bodies. A small band of Indians would engage in a raid, 
and owing to the red tape enveloping the army posts 
would cover a large scope and destroy great life 
and much property and get away before the troops 
could get into action. As the rangers and cowboys were 
always well mounted and anned, and could get on the 
trail and in pursuit of the marauding bands of Indians 
almost immediately after they entered the boundaries of 
the settlements, the Indians knew and feared these forces. 
There could be no better illustration of how the Indians 
regarded the relative effectiveness of the cowboys and the 
United States troops than a dialogue that took place 
between an Indian and the commandant of a certain 
army post. The Indian accosted the officer and asked 
him if he would trade him one of the mounted cannon at 
the post, whereupon the officer answered that he would 
not, saying, "If I trade a cannon to you, you will use it in 
killing my soldiers." The answer of the Indian was that 
such would not be the case, as he wanted the cannon to 
shoot cowboys with, and would kill the soldiers with 
clubs. 

In the interest of historv it can be recorded that the 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 113 

rangers and cowboys are undeniably entitled to the glory 
and credit of eventually driving and keeping out the 
Indians from the Texas frontiers, and not the United 
States troops. I wish to make especial mention in this 
connection of George Stephens, an ex-sheriff of Wise 
county, who was captain of a small company of rangers, 
as it is a noted fact that he and his men alone killed more 
Indians and repelled more Indian attacks and afforded 
more protection to the frontier citizens of the western tier 
of counties than was ever accomplished by the soldiers. 
It was the custom of Captain Stephens and his men to 
attack and pursue the Indians regardless of any disparity 
in numbers and strength. An instance was the attack 
made by Captain Stephens on the Indians in Lost Valley, 
Jack county, Texas. In this attack Captain Stephens had 
but a very few men with which to engage several hundred 
Indians that w^ere making a raid through Jack and ad- 
jacent counties, during which the Indians massacred not 
a few people, among whom I recall Bill Glass and a young 
man by the name of Bailey. A strange coincidence in 
connection with the killing of the young man was that his 
father had been slain by the Indians on a similar raid 
when the younger Bailey was only a child. Notwirh- 
standing the large number of Indians in this memorable 
Lost Valley raid, Captain Stephens and his small band of 
intrepid forces succeeded in routing them and putting 
them to fUght in such a manner as to save the lives of 
many people and much property. A short time after this 
particular raid another band of Indians, consisting of 
several hundred warriors, intent upon murder and plun- 
der, entered Texas. Once more Captain Stephens 
and his company undertook to drive them out of the 
settlements, and did so. So hurriedly did he pursue them 
that he overtook them on the Little Wichita river in Clay 
county, Texas, some ten miles southwest of the present 
city of Henrietta, and in this pursuit Stephens had not 

8- 



114 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

exceeding ten men. When the engagement opened up he 
discovered that he had encountered three hundred Indians 
and a band numerically so strong that he could not hope 
to cope with them. The battle opened and had raged 
furiously for some time when Captain Stephens, seeing 
that they could not hold out in their resistance much 
longer, had his men dismount and seek shelter in the 
timber and canyons, abandoning their horses altogether. 
In this way they kept up a desultory fight under cover 
and during the night effected their escape. They set out 
for Decatur, Wise county, which was distant about eighty 
miles, which distance they covered on foot without either 
rest or food. This was accomplished without the loss of a 
man and after inflicting severe punishment upon a large 
body of Indians. I only recall the name of one of the ten 
men with Captain Stephens on this occasion, and that was 
John Hogg, a brother of the late distinguished Governor 
J. S. Hogg of Texas. 

A great deal has been said and written about the 
Mustang horses so nimierous in the Northwest, and 
especially in Texas, from the upper Cross-Timbers, and 
over the Panhandle of Texas, and in what was then 
known as "No Man's Land" and is now Beaver county, 
Oklahoma. As a digression, I would say that in the early 
days No Man's Land was the place of refuge and ren- 
dezvous for many of the most vicious outlaws and fugitives 



Indiahoma, Okla., 

March 22, 1910. 
I will now drop you few lines this morning. I received your 
letter few days ago. I was very glad to hear from you. Now, 
my friend, I haven't got them pictures, because I was very busy. 
But I am going sent them to you soon as I get them fixed. Now 
if you can get that Biscuits when you get it and sent me just few 
of them. Well, how are you getting along I hope you are well. 
How is people at Texas anyhow. We are all getting along very 
nicely. My friend, I guess it must be all for you this time. I 
must close it now. 

I am, your dearest friend, 

Parkerheimer. 



In the Bosom op the Comanches 115 




Parkerheimer, Squaw and Son. 



116 Ix THE Bosom of the Comanches 

that ever inhabited this continent. These outlaws had 
No Man's "Land practically all to themselves, and it was 
a very rare instance that an officer of the law e\^er suc- 
ceeded in going into and taking out of this district any of 
the aforesaid outlaws. Frequently an officer would go in 
and never be heard of again. 

Resuming the subject of the Mustang ponies, I would 
say that as far back as 1866 to 1867, I traversed all of the 
country above described in the two years I was with the 
Comanche Indians, and the supposed Mustang horses 
consisted of animals that had been abandoned by the 
Indians and originally stolen from Texas and New Mexico. 
The Indians made a practice of stealing and having 
plenty of horses, and when hotly pursued by Texas 
rangers, cowboys, and United States soldiers, it would 
frequently happen they would have to abandon many of 
their horses, as in their hurried flight they could not 
drive the horses fast enough and would necessarily leave 
them behind. In this way the horses became scattered 
all over the country. I recall one instance when the 
United States troops captured a band of Indians that had 
an unusually large number of horses, and the officers in 
charge gave orders to kill most all of the horses in the 
possession of the captured Indians. In executing these 
orders the troops rounded up and killed on this particular 
occasion about two thousand horses. 

During my compulsory sojourn with the Comanche 
Indians I was not permitted to accompany them on any 
of the raids into Texas, but they were glad to have me as 
one of their warriors on raids into Mexico, and on such 
raids I accompanied them twice, each raiding party 
consisting of about seventy-five men. In each exploit 
they secured a considerable number of horses, and on the 
last raid we killed seven Mexicans and captured two 
Mexican girls and one boy. These children ranged in age 
from eight to ten years, and were still with the Indians as 



In the Bosom of the Comaxches 117 




Daughter of Chief I abernanika. now lives near Fort Sill. 



118 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

captives when my release from them was effected. Space 
would not pennit me to depict and relate the circumstances 
of the many harrowing Indian massacres of which I had 
knowledge during the dark days of the Indian depred- 
ations, but I will relate one instance, terrible in its cruelty 
and unusually pathetic in many respects. This particular 
instance was that of the massacre of the Russell family 
that took place in the year 1868, some four miles south- 
west of the location now occupied by Chico, Texas. Mrs. 
Russell was a widow that with her four children had lived 
alone for several years. She had three sons, about twenty- 
one, sixteen, and ten years of age respectively, and her 
daughter, Martha, was eighteen years of age. In the 
attack from the Indians all were killed including the 
mother, except Bean and Martha. Bean was absent at 
work as an employe of a United States government saw- 
mill about ten miles from his home, which was the old 
Joe Henry Martin place. The Indians destroyed this 
home on Saturday, and on Sunday morning Bean Russell 
returned to spend the Sabbath with the family, as was 



Cyril, Okla., Apr. 21, 1910. 
Dear Bro. Dot: — I was very glad to get your letter. I want 
to go up there but I do not know when will Quanah Parker go 
there, so if you will let me know when he is going I will go with 
him. I do not know the way to there. I will send you a few 
pictures that I have here and next time I will send some more. 
We are all well here, hoping you the same. 

Your Bro., 
Name means "lost a sitting down." Tom Watsacoder. 

Cyril, Okla., Nov. 3, 1910. - 
Dear Brother: — I will write a few lines to you this morning. 
Well, we are all still in good health, we have been in a good con- 
dition since you left here. Quanah has gone and we did not 
know that they have to pay some money to go hunt there so I 
did not go. We did not know the way to go down there. I will 
not write a long one this time, but will do better next time. I 
hope this letter will find you all well there so must close for 
time. Answer soon. 

From your brother, 
Mr. Dot Babb. Tom Watsacoder. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



119 




120 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

his usual custom. There he was coiifronted by the 
ghastly sight of his murdered mother and brothers, but 
he could find no trace of Martha. He at once hastened 
to the nearest neighbors, three or four miles distant, and 
reported the horrible massacre. At this time there was 
not exceeding ten families in the county. In this raid 
there were not less than three hundred Indians. The 
mystery of all was what had become of Martha. With 
many the conclusion was that the beautiful young girl 
with golden hair had been made a captive by the Indians 
who would take her away with them. However, this 
theory was shaken on seeing and talking with Uncle Dick 
Couch and his sons, who resided in the neighborhood, and 
who had just successfully withstood an attack from the 
same band of Indians, having in reality not only resisted 
them but driven them ofi and given pursuit. Uncle Dick 
and his sons contended that in the encounter they saw 
the entire band, and that Martha was not with them, and 
that they must have killed her after leaving the Russell 
home. Following this there was a general search for 
Martha, whose body was found by Uncle Dick Couch on 
his way home on the day we had buried the other three 
slain members of the Russell family. He at once reported 
such to the neighbors, who proceeded to bury her remains 
with the other members of the family. It was found that 
these ruthless Indians had not only killed but had scalped 
Martha and left her entirely nude, and when found the 
wolves had badly mutilated her remains. It was sup- 
posed the Indians scalped her that they might take her 
very fine and luxuriant suit of golden hair. Neighbors 
on inspectirg the Russell home found that the widowed 
mother and sons had made a most desperate resistance, 
each dying with one or more weapons in hand and sur- 
rounded by large puddles of their own blood. They had 
fought with desperation and no doubt had wounded or 
killed some of the attacking Indians; but in case of killing 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 121 




122 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

the Indians it would not have been known, as it was their 
invariable custom to carry oft" their dead. This frightful 
tragedy took place ^^-ithin twenty miles of a United States 
army post, Fort Richardson at Jacksboro, Texas, and is 
a further evidence of the inefhciency of the United States 
government in protecting its citizens. This is only one of 
a countless number of similar massacres which will give 
some idea of the sufferings, dangers and hardships of the 
daring pioneer people who blazed the way that civilization, 
security and prosperity' might follow in their wake, and 
fiirther serves to remind all of the debt of gratitude to 
the brave pioneers of Texas that can never be paid. 

Diunng my early ranch days with Dan Waggoner in 
the counties of Clay and Wichita there were immense 
herds of buftalo roaming the prairies in all directions, and 
I was accustomed to having some fine sport pursuing and 
occasionalh' killing the buffalo bulls that were wont to 
show fight. Pat Kemp, my companion to whom I have 
already frequently referred, enjoyed this sport with me. 
I recall a very ludicrous experience one day when Pat and 
I were chasing some large buffalo bulls. During the chase 
I had killed three or four, and in the heat of the pursuit I 
had lost sight of Pat. Going in search of him I saw Pat's 
riderless horse coming in my direction. I felt very much 
alarmed and hastened to look over the surrounding 
country, when to my great surprise a few hundred yards 
distant I saw Pat astride a buffalo bull. Thinking that 
he would need assistance I put spurs to my horse and 
hurried to him and on overtaking him inquired why he 
was riding the buft'alo. Pat's reply was that "Old Buck- 
skin," the horse that he had been riding, ''could not over- 
take the young buffalo," and being desirous of killing 
some buffalo yearlings he had mounted the buffalo bull, 
believing that in that way he could get to the front, and 
that when up with the young buffalo, he could disinount 
and kill some of the vearlings that were leading the herd. 



In the Bosom or the Comaxches 123 

But instead the old buffalo had sulked and would not run 
at a fast pace. I then asked him how he expected to get 
off the btiffalo, and Pat said, •"You get my Winchester 
when I throw it down, and I will show you how to get off."' 
whereupon he threw down the Winchester, and I got off 
of my horse and secured the gun. so that I could shoot 
the buffalo, if necessar\-. At this juncture Pat drew his 
large bowie-knife, with which he stabbed the buffalo 
several times, the buffalo soon thereafter falling dead in 
his tracks. As the btiffalo feU Pat jtunped. remarking, 
'"That is the way to get off an old buffalo bull." This 
memorable buffalo ride was on Gilbert's creek in Wichita 
county, Texas, in 1873. 

Pat and I had many experiences with and many narrow 
escapes from the wild animals with which we came in 
frequent contact, as Pat and I were always in quest of 
something new as a means of occup^Tng the more or less 
idle time that was not required in giving attention to the 
cattle. On one of these explorations through nearby 
plain and woodland, in which we were also enjo>"ing the 
excitement of chasing the wild hogs that roamed in the 
bend of the Big Wichita river, just above Wichita Falls, 
near its present cemeter\', an old bloodhound that we 
had with us foimd and treed four panther cubs. Three 
of these cubs were in a big cottonwood tree and the other 
in a hackberr}' not so large. Pat and I shot the three in 
the cottonwood and they came tumbling to the grovmd, 
two of them being dead and the other badly wounded. 
When it hit the ground it was crying just like a child, 
and on hearing its wails the cub in the hackberr\" tree 
came tumbling down also, as if it had been shot. Between 
Pat and old Red, the bloodhound, and myself we managed 
after a desperate struggle to capture this cub and tied 
him securely, and as we were finishing, the two old or 
parent panthers appeared on the scene in response to the 
screams of the wotmded cub. Before we could realize 



124 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

their presence and threatened attack old Red had en- 
gaged them both in unequal combat. Old Red did not 
seem to be very much in their way, and I would like to 
have adequate expression of how I felt when I saw them 
approaching, but I have not the language to do so. One 
of their first efforts was to undertake to release the ciib 
that had been tied, and all the while they were menacing 
us vrith an attack that we knew to be right at hand. I 
seized my Winchester rifle and Pat his .45 Colt's ]:)istol, 
which he used with one hand, holding on all the while to 
the young panther with the other. There was no time 
for us to prepare a campaign of defense, and in the emerg- 
ency we had to look out each for himself and shoot as 
rapidly and unerringly as possible. This we both did, 
and to my great relief, as well as astonishment, we suc- 
ceeded in killing both of the infuriated beasts, just as 
they were in the act of seizing and tearing us to pieces. 
We could not have escaped as we did at all had it not 
been for the brave and unflinching work of old Red, the 
hound, v;ho seized the mother panther in the beginning 
of the attack and during the fight "never released his hold, 
notwithstanding the horrible uounds and laceration he 
received. In this way the mother panther, the more 
vicious of the two, as would naturally be the case, was 
badly handicapped. We would shoot and both panthers 
would continue to advance, and we must have shot them 
ten to fifteen times before kiUing them. They were intent 
upon but one thing, and that was our destruction, and 
had we retreated the least bit, or had missed our aim in 
any instance, we could not and v/ould not have survived 
the combat. We carried our young panther to the ranch, 
and with the general treatment we administered it be- 
came very docile and was valued highly by us as a rare 
pet. Just as we were becoming much attached to it, Dutch 
Joe came up from Sherman and we made him a present 
of the young panther, which he took with him on his 



In the Bosom or the Comaxches 125 




126 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

return to Sherman. The wild hogs referred to on the 
Wichita river were the offspring of a stock of hogs 
owned by the man Gilbert, who had the hardihood to 
establish his home on the Red river some fifteen miles 
distant before the Ci\nl War. These hogs had wandered 
from Red river to the woodlands bordering on Wichita 
river, and there multiplied in great number, and were 
just as wild and vicious as any of the other dangerous 
denizens of the plains or woods. We derived a great deal 
of excitement from the chase of these v/ild hogs with our 
blood-hound, old Red, as the chase was always full of 
zest and danger. 

Another danger more dreadful than wild beasts, and 
one that in the summer and fall seasons lurked ever near, 
was that of the fatal fangs of the venomous rattlesnakes 
that abounded in great numbers on every hand. These 
were the black and diamond rattlesnakes, frequently 
attaining a length of six to eight feet, and having from 
ten to twenty rattles. These deadly monsters of the 
plain were always in an aggresive mood and were ever 
ready to contest the right of way with all comers what- 
soever. At the approach of man or beast their rattles 
sounded that awful alann so often the prelude to their 
fatal and deadly strike. They would coil instantly, 
giving out the hideous rattle all the while, and with in- 
calculable rapidity strike their full length, injecting a 
venom equal in fatahty to that of the world-fam.ed cobra. 
It was not the particular propensity of the rattler to hunt 
out victims but rather to hold its ground and attack and 
fight viciously upon the sudden and unex]Dected approach 
of almost any living creature. To retreat in the face of 
an enemy or of threatened danger or combat was no part 
of the code of a rattlesnake, whose self confidence and 
bravery were always supreme. The greatest peril from 
these terrible snakes, so very like the hues of the parched 
grass concealing thein,was realizing by their rattle that they 



In the Bosom of the Comanxhes 



127 



were near 3^011 and not knowing in what direction to junip 
or flee, and realizing also that if you moved precipitately 
likely as otherwise you woidd land within the radius of 
their strike, so deadly as to be almost bej^ond all hope. 
One of the safeguards employed was that of heavy boots 
with high tops, but withal occasionally a very large 
rattler would plant his fangs entirely above the boot's 
protection. You have read and heard recited the story 







4ku|g^^TI/ 


f 

1 



128 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

of the tranquil abode in the prairie-dof^ hole, of the rattler, 
the prairie-dog, and the owl. All of which is tlie vejiest 
fiction, since whenever the rattler entered the hole the 
dogs and owls either went out of the hole or into the 
snake, for the snake su1,»sisted largely on both. With the 
coming of settlements, rattlers disappear rapidly, as no 
one was ever in too great a hurry not to kill the rattler if lie 
had or was able to secure the means with which to dis- 
patch this most hated and dreaded of all species of ven- 
omous and deadly reptiles. To surround the camp tent 
or the lonely bunk ujDon the slope with a hair rope was 
an effectual expedient often employed against an un- 
welcom.e nocturnal \nsit and a stealthy occupancy of 
either the tent or bunk with such dire results as death, 
either from fright or poison. The rattler, like the tar- 
antula and other terrible, creeping, crawling thing? that 
once menaced the life and comfort of the unprotected 
sleepers upon the ground, would not cross a hair rope. 

Upon occasion I have been in such dangerously close 
quarters with the rattler that I would cheerfully have 
exchanged him for the biggest lion or the most ferocious 
man-eating tiger that ever trod the jungle. I shall only 
relate one particular haiTowing experience with a rattler 
from which I escaped with such a narrow margin as to 
make me shudder at the reflection even now, some forty 
years after the occurrence. In the aftemo(3n of a very 
hot daA^ I entered upon pursuit of some cattle that had 
wandered too far from the range, and not wishing to 
return without them I persisted in the search until I 
found them and started them back at the close of the day. 
I drove the cattle along as hurriedly as possible, but at 
length the skies became overcast with heavy clouds, and 
in the intense darkness of the sultry night I had difficulty 
in finding my way. I therefore decided, as I had often 
done before, to halt for the night, and with tlie dawn 
overtake the cattle and proceed to the ranch head- 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 129 

(luarters. I tethered my horse so that he could graze, 
and, with a blanket I always carried attached to my 
saddle, I made my bed upon the grass, where, being very 
tired, I soon fell into a deep sleep. In the course of a few 
hours a storm gathered, and I was aroused by terrific 
lightning and thimder. I raised myself to a sitting 
posture, and in doing so I disturbed my uninvited bed- 
mate, a huge rattlesnake, who announced his dangerous 
presence with that terrifying rattle, that all who are 
familiar with the rattler know has but one meaning, a 
proclamation that he is going into action then and there. 
My heart stopped beating and my hair stood straight up, 
and I did not dare to move even if for the moment I 
could have done so, as I did not know the location of the 
snake further than to realize from the horrible rattle that 
he was almost against me and in easy striking distance. 
A vi\ad flash of lightning revealed his wicked snakeship 
just finishing his coil for the strike, and in the opposite 
direction I rolled with that swiftness of motion known 
to be quicker than sight. As I rolled I contemplated the 
possibility of a companion rattler on the other side, for 
snakes ordinarily travel in pairs. But I was spared this 
added peril, and after recovering some of my composure 
I secured my gun and dispatched what proved to be a 
rattler fully six feet long with eighteen rattles. I selected 
another resting place, and with blanket and slicker spent 
the remainder of the stormy night rejoicing over another 
escape from a grave situation. Evidently I had placed 
my bunk in the vicinity of the rattler, which later stretched 
out alongside my bed for shelter from the approaching 
storm. Had the snake been coiled when I sat up, he 
would certainly have driven his fangs into me, and with 
results probably fatal. As is well known, the rattler does 
not bite but strikes, his fangs being distended and driven 
in with the force of the strike; and, therefore, to strike, 



— 9 



130 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

the snake must be coiled, enabling it to strike nearly if not 
quite the distance covered by its full length. 

Having lived with the Indians for two years, I am in 
position to speak authoritatively of their inner domestic 
life, concerning which there has been much said and 
written of a fanciful and exaggerated nature. I therefore 
consider that in submitting certain facts along this line 
such will prove beneficial to all who may want to know 
the truth. The savage tribes subsisted mainly on buffalo 
meat, both fresh and dried. They also now and then 
partook of horse-flesh, and when it became necessary at 
certain intervals subsisted wholly on the meat of the 
horse, as at times the buffalo was not available. It was 
the custom to cvu"e in the sun the meat that the}' would 
put away for winter consumption. In preparing meat 
they wovild beat it up and then parch it on the coals. 
Sometimes they stewed their meat, and then dipped it 
into a salt brine as they ate it. They had no regular hours 
for repasts, and had the habit of eating whenever they 
were hungry. They did not eat any bread at all. They 
lived in what is known as tepees or wigwams, which were 
made out of buffalo hides, dressed and tanned after a 
process of their own. They would take ten or fifteen 
buffalo skins after preparing them, and sew them to- 
gether so as to make one tepee. They used the sinew of 
the bufifalo in making thread and cord. This sinew was 
found in the back of the animal extending from the hip 
bones to the shoulder blades. It could be subdivided 
into small strands like thread, and each strand of the 
sinew had ten times the strength of the thread of the 
same size. They also made their bowstrings of the sinew, 
which strings were practically unbreakable. As before 
stated, the prevailing custom was for the men to have 
whatever number of wives or squaws they deemed neces- 
sary, which ordinarily amounted to two to six wives to 
each man. The impression has obtained that the chief 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 131 




Chief Quanah Parker and His Old Home 



132 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

had special prerogatives as to the number of squaws he 
could possess; but that is a mistake, as all the Indian men 
were on the same footing and permitted to have what- 
ever number of wives they desired without respect to 
rank. The women that were the wives or squaws of one 
man all lived together and acknowledged the man as 
theirs in common. There were a great many more women 
than men, as many of the warriors were killed from time 
to time in their raids and battles ; and owing to the greater 
number of women a great latitude was extended to the 
men as to the number of wives or squaws they shoiild 
possess. Each man and his squaws would occupy tepees 
separately from the others, but strange to say the squaws 
would devote the same attention to the children of other 
women as they would their own. Only in rare instances 
was there ever any friction or discord between the squaws 
of the same or different households, and it v/as the rule, 
generally observed, never to whip the children, but to 
direct them by persuasion and object lessons. However, 
they were firm with their children, and commanded 
obedience and respect from them. 

As to the manner of dress the men wore shirts, leg- 
gings, and breech clouts, and either a blanket or buffalo 
robe. Most of the garments were made of buckskin. 
They also wore moccasins on their feet, made of the same 
material. The Indian women and girls were dressed in 
buckskin, with blankets and any kind of cloth they could 
obtain. They would take a blanket and cut a hole in the 
middle so they could get their heads through, and then 
put a piece on each side in a V shape, so that it would 
spread out like a skirt and serve to drape the body. It 
was also a fixed custom that the squaws were to do all the 
menial work. They skinned and dried the buffalo meat, 
dressed the hides, and prepared all of the food, supplied 
the drinking water, moved the tepees, and in fact were 
the servants and menials of their lords in every manner 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 133 




Comanche Babe and Cradle. 



-9A 



134 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

of domestic work and service. The men were always kind 
and affectionate to the squaws, and were never tyrannical 
in their treatment of them. Occasionally a warrior would 
capture a white woman for the purpose of adding her to 
his harem, and when he did so no other Indian would 
dare molest him or intrude upon liis exclusive ownership 
of the white squaw. The women of the tribe were moral 
and virtuous to a most remarkable degree, and with but 
few exceptions were loyal to the men with whom they had 
been mated. They seemed to have had a considerable 
conception of hmnor, and indulged m the habit of prac- 
tical jokes and much fun at each others' expense, which is 
contrary to the belief so prevalent that the Indian is 
stoical and solemn on all occasions. 

When an Indian buck died they would kill several 
horses for him to ride in the next world. They all be- 
lieved implicitly in the Great Spirit, as is generally known. 
They had healers known as "medicine men," and in case 
of sickness or anj^one being wounded the medicine men 
would come and wait upon the patient in such a manner as 
to call on the Great Father to help him so administer 
treatment as would enable the patient to recover. In 
cases of fatal illness, the grief of the parents and kinsmen 
was often inconsolable. I recall one particular instance 
when I was residing in Wichita Falls in 1887, when an 
Indian by the name of Black Horse, in the employ of 
Messrs. Franlv and George Knott in Wichita Falls, who 
had grass leases in the Comanche reservation, lost one of 
his children. Black Horse killed five of his horses, saying 
that he wanted to be sure the little boy would be well 
mounted in the next world, to which he had gone. Black 
Horse only had eight horses, and the killing of five left 
him three only, which was not a sufficient mount for the 
remaining five members of the family, and he at once 
came to Wichita Falls for the piirpose of having the 
Knott brothers buy him two more horses. Black Horse 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 135 




TAH-HAH, A Modern Comanche Indian Girl 



136 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

did not know how to explain to the Knott brothers, and 
he came to my home between twelve and one o'clock at 
night, when my family and I were sound asleep. He, 
however, pounded on the house and called for me by my 
Indian name. Finally he had aroused Mrs. Babb, who 
called to me, saying, ''There are somie Indians wanting 
you on the outside." Mrs. Babb was familiar with my 
Indian name, and for that reason understood the Indian 
desired to see me. I went to the door, and asked what 
they wanted. Black Horse related his troubles, and re- 
quested me to go with him the next morning to Mr. 
Knott's home and explain to him the object of his mis- 
sion, as Black Horse could not speak English. I accord- 
ingly accompanied him, and after due and satisfactory 
explanations Mr. Knott let him have the two horses. As 
a further m.anifestation of his gnef over the loss of his 
little boy, Black Horse had burned up his tepees, wagons, 
buggy, harness, and in fact most everything he had, and 
said he did so because in this way all of such equipment 
would reach his boy and be of assistance to him in the 
other world. I mention this instance to explain the 
popular conception the Indians had of death and the life 
hereafter. 

The Indian di*um or tomtom was made b}' stretching 
rawhide over some hollow vessel fashioned after the nature 
of a cheese hoop. The shields they used so effectively in 
protecting their bodies from bullets were made out of 
bullneck, oval shaped, about eighteen inches across, and 
would turn alm.ost any bullet. These shields the Indians 
would use held in front if advancing, or thrown over their 
backs, if retreating. The Indians would undergo any 
amount of peril and danger in taking their wounded ofE 
the field of battle unless scalped, as they had a super- 
stitition against recovering a scalped victim of their 
tribe. 

Chieftains were usually men who had won leadership 



In the Bosom of the Comanche s 



137 



by personal bravery and exhibitions of courage and skill, 
either in the chase or on the field of battle, and where the 
chief proved himself worthy his descendants succeeded 
him in authority from one generation to another. The 
oldest son always took precedence in succeeding to the 




An Indian Belle of recent times. 



138 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

father's rank. In the event of the death of a chief with- 
out a direct descendant to succeed him there would be 
held a council of the warriors who would select one of 
their number and install him as their chief. There were 
always division chiefs, who would have direct supervision 
over about a thousand warriors each, and each chief 
would have his staff, something in the manner of a general 
of the army ; and the chiefs and their staffs or counsellors, 
as they Vv-ere knowTi, were supreme in all tribal laws and 
regiilations. There were never any inter-tribal marriages, 
as the policy was for each tribe to live to itself. They 
also observed much the same rules as to marrying their 
kin as are prescribed by the rules and laws of civiUzation. 
I have heard them explain that in this observation they 
desired to avoid disease, deformity, and many other ills 
common to intermarrying in too close a degree of kinship. 
They were if anything more particular in this respect 
than white people. It is notable that with the Indians 
there is neither insanity nor epilepsy. They had no 
vrritten records of any kind and depended solely on 
tradition as handed down from one generation to another. 
They had unbounded admiration for any white man who 
had exhibited bravery in their combats wdth them, and 
in reviewing the past always spoke in terms of greatest 
praise of their white adversaries who withstood the 
tenible Indian charges unflinchingly. Another striking 
characteristic was their truthfulness and their respect for 
the truth in all daily intercourse and transactions. In the 
beginning they were made to undervalue the good traits 
of the white man, as their first contact with the white 
race was with thieves and outlaws, causing them to con- 
clude that all white men were alike and that in killing 
and punishing them they were doing a righteous and just 
deed; and there can be no question but that they were 
more or less animated by what they esteemed to be a 
protection of their rights, privileges, and possessions. The 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



139 



Indian warriors generally had good discipline, and when 
on the warpath they would put out sentinels on high 
points and guard the rear as they marched or slept. Their 
custom was to sleep awhile and travel again, making 
sometimes as many as three sleeps in one night. In their 
skirmishes and battles the various units would sometimes 
become separated, and in reuniting thcv would at night 




140 In the Bosom or the Comanches 

build fires and surround them with blankets and thus 
force columns of smoke to ascend as sentinels to be seen 
and used as a common rendezvous. 

The Indians had no e3'ebrows, eye lashes, nor whiskers, 
as they were pulled out with tweezers. The Indian men 
would all have whiskers about the same as white men biit 
for this fact. The Indians were also respectful and un- 
usually affectionate to their old people, and would provide 
and care for them tenderly. The Indians also in their 
primeval state were almost immune from disease and 
usually died from senility, and often attained to the great 
age of over a hundred years. There were rareh^ ever an}'- 
deaths at childbirth, and the women were not A^ery pro- 
lific, which w^as supposed to be due to the drtidgery of 
their servile lives and excessive horseback riding. It 
would be a rare case when tliere would be more than 
three children born to one squaw. The Indian counted 
the winter and summer as a year each. In the burial of 
their dead the Comariches would select a site on a bluff 
and cover the remains with rocks, and in extreme cases, 
if a chieftain, they would dig a grave, and make inter- 
m.ent therein. The Cheyennes buried in trees or on 
scaffolds. When a warrior was buried his bows, arrows, 
clothes, gun, and all war trappings were buried with him. 
The men and women were permitted to mate or marry as 
their mutual affections and sentiment directed, and it 
was a general practice of the old men to select the youngest 
girls whenever moved by desire to recruit their harems. 
Generally the Indians were very considerate of their 
captives, and I have known not a few to return to the 
Indians and others that would have returned if the}^ had 
been given the opportunity. Such captives had foimd the 
Indians hospitable and generous, dividing liberally and 
freely any and everything they had or could get that 
would minister to the pleasiu'e and comfort of the cap- 
tured. Strange as it may seem., the savage tribes had 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



141 




142 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

many of the instincts and finer imi^ulses and emotions 
inherent in the best races of people and civilization the 
world over. 

During my captivity with the Comanche Indians I 
learned their speech and Hngo pretty thoroughly. Some 
four or five hundred words comprise their vocabulary, 
consisting almost wholly of nouns and adjectives. Their 
speech embodies mainly the names of objects. The 
deficiency in language as to their emotions, shades of 
feeling and descriptive utterances found an amplified 
expression in the art of gesticulation, in which they were 
both masterful and graceful. They had no patronymics 
or surnames, and derived their individual names from 
some closely connected circumistance, event, or happening, 
trivial or otherwise, and these names, even with chiefs, 
passed out forever with the bearer thereof. 

In closing this autobiography I refrain from reciting 
many incidents, in the hope that I may avoid the pro- 
lixity of too volimiinous a narrative. Within the scope 
embraced herein I have endeavored to throw some Hght 
on all of the phases of Hfe, tribal characteristics, and view- 
points of one of the great subdivisions of the aboriginal 
inhabitants of North America, and in doing so I feel that 
I have performed no mean service. There is now left 
onl}^ the shadow of the multitudinous Indian tribes who 
until so recently overspread this continent. Before this 
fact can be realized the shadow will have vanished en- 
tirely and forever, and any record that will faithfully 
illuminate the exploits, the part played, and even the 
very existence of the Indian races, so numerous and 
powerful in the past, must enrich history and prove a 
valued heritage to generations now living and to follow. 
Being myself one of the pathfinders, I have striven to 
convey something of the sufferings and sacrifices of the 
fearless, hardy... and noble men and women who pushed 
ever back the borders of the frontiers and broadened the 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 



143 




144 In the Bosom of the Comanches 

zone and limits of civilization. These were the pioneers of 
Texas, most of them having been called to their last 
reward, but not until they realized that they had be- 
queathed to mankind one of the greatest commonwealths 
known to the nations of all the world. 

As I now enter the lengthening shadows of life, and 
looking back reckon the march of the wheels of progress, 
I feel amply compensated for the privations, sorrows, 
and struggles experienced and borne by me in the modest 
part I have performed in that thrilling drama enacted 
upon the Texas frontiers which in tragedy, endurance, 
daring, pathos, variety, and intensity of action is com- 
parable with the imperishable roles of the world's best 
heroes in all the ages of an unmeasured past. 



In the Bosom of the Comanches 145 




Present Day Comanche Mother and Son. 






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